Memento Mocha: Remember You Will Die (So Make It a Double Shot)

by Stoic Grounds

Let’s talk about death.
Not in the “goth poetry in your high school notebook” way, but in the more cheerful, espresso-scented, ancient-Roman-philosopher kind of way.

The Stoics, bless their minimalist sandals, had a little phrase to keep them humble and grounded: memento mori — Latin for “remember you will die.” It sounds ominous, but it was actually a productivity hack before productivity hacks were invented.

Roman generals used to whisper it to themselves after a victorious battle.
Modern men whisper it after accidentally liking their ex’s Instagram post from 2017.

But here at Stoic Grounds, we say:
Memento Mocha — remember you will die... so you might as well enjoy a damn good cup of coffee first.

Life Is Short. So Is the Window Before Your Latte Gets Cold.

A fresh cup of coffee is like life itself:
Hot. Brief. Aromatic. Slightly bitter. And often ruined by someone trying to talk to you about crypto.

The moment you take your first sip, that coffee begins its slow descent into lukewarm mediocrity — just like your dreams after age 30. This is why the Stoics would’ve made excellent baristas. Seneca would’ve poured your macchiato and handed it to you with a solemn nod and a warning: “You have 6.5 minutes before it turns into brown sadness. Use them well.”

Memento mori, amigos. And drink while it’s hot.

Do Not Doomscroll with the Elixir of Life in Hand

Coffee is sacred.
Yet we abuse it every day — sipping our blessed brew while scrolling through the latest outrage on the internet.

You ever notice how nobody savors anything anymore? We’re so busy checking emails, tracking shipping updates, and reading think pieces about the decline of Western civilization that we forget to taste the dark, beautiful miracle we paid $6.75 for.

The Stoic solution?
Treat your mug like a sacred scroll from Marcus Aurelius himself.

Pause. Sip. Reflect.
Then post a blurry photo of your latte foam shaped like Aristotle’s face and tell the algorithm to chill.

Sidebar: How to Stare Into Your Mug Like a Tragic Hero™

Want to impress people at the café with your deep philosophical aura and inability to process emotions? Here’s how:

1. Hold the mug with both hands, like you just unearthed it from a temple ruin.
2. Narrow your eyes, as if you’re contemplating the fall of empires (or your student loan payments).
3. Gaze into the crema like it contains visions of your past lives.
4. Occasionally sigh and whisper things like “All is vanity” or “Even this shall pass… like oat milk through a digestive tract.”

If someone asks what’s wrong, reply:
“Nothing. Just practicing mortality awareness with medium roast.”

Bonus points if you wear a scarf indoors and quote Epictetus loudly enough for the barista to hear.

Final Thought: Don't Fear the Reaper. Brew for Him.

Here’s the thing: We’re all heading toward the same end. Some of us with grace. Some of us with three loyalty cards from competing coffee chains. But the Stoics weren’t trying to bum you out — they were trying to wake you up.

And nothing wakes you up like caffeine and the looming inevitability of death.

So make it a double shot.

Savor the moment.

Spill nothing.

And if the universe hands you a bitter brew, remember: You can always stir in a little honey and try again tomorrow.

Or as Marcus Aurelius probably almost (never) said:

“Waste no more time arguing what a good man should be. Be one. Preferably with a cortado.”

Stoic Grounds.
Giving you a philosophy for life.
And coffee.
Because both are fleeting — and better with a splash of oat milk.