Men for the sake of getting a living forget to live.

Hear, O children of time, the solemn warning of Margaret Fuller, who in her wisdom declared: “Men, for the sake of getting a living, forget to live.” These words strike like thunder upon the heart, for they reveal a truth that spans all ages. Too often do mortals chase the coin and the measure of survival, yet lose the greater treasure—the sacred fullness of life itself. Like wanderers who thirst beside a flowing spring, they clutch at dust while the waters of joy pass by untasted.

In ancient days, men built monuments, raised armies, and hoarded wealth, thinking that in these pursuits they had secured their living. But what is a living if the soul grows barren? Behold the mighty King Midas of legend, who longed for gold so fiercely that even his food and drink turned to it. Though he was surrounded by riches beyond imagining, he found no nourishment, no delight—his hunger and his heart remained unsatisfied. So it is with those who toil endlessly for survival yet forget the art of living—they grasp abundance, yet are left empty-handed.

The words of Fuller rise from her own age, when the fires of industry and the rush of commerce threatened to consume the souls of women and men alike. Factories thundered, markets bustled, and cities grew, yet amid this noise, the human spirit risked being silenced. Fuller, a woman of vision, sought to remind the world that life is not merely breath and bread, but also thought, love, beauty, and the pursuit of truth. Her cry was a beacon: do not barter away the dawn for the price of a loaf, nor sell the evening star for the wage of a day.

Consider also the tale of Leo Tolstoy, who in his later years abandoned wealth and privilege to seek a simpler existence. Though honored as a count, though his writings brought him glory, he saw how many labored without joy, how many lived without truly living. He walked away from his estate to work with his hands, to be among the peasants, to feel once more the pulse of existence. His journey reminds us that no measure of comfort or security can replace the deep fire of a life truly lived.

Yet there is heroism in the balance. Fuller does not despise the act of labor, nor the need to earn. She warns instead against forgetfulness—against the peril of making the means into the end. For work has its dignity, but when it becomes a prison, when the heart grows numb and the days blur like shadows, then man has traded his freedom for a chain of his own making. Let work be the servant of life, not its master.

Therefore, O seekers, the lesson is clear: do not merely exist. Do not let the sun rise and set upon a soul that only counts coins or marks hours. Remember to live—to walk under the stars with wonder, to laugh with companions, to create, to love, to learn. These are the riches no wage can purchase, the treasures no thief can steal.

Practical action lies before you. Guard a portion of each day for what stirs your soul: a song, a story, a moment of silence, or a hand extended in kindness. Seek labor that not only sustains your body but also nourishes your spirit. And when you must work for bread alone, do not forget to break that bread with joy, gratitude, and fellowship. For in such small acts, you reclaim what it means to live.

So remember the ancient teaching: seek not only a living, but a life. For the world is not given to you merely to survive in—it is given for you to dwell richly, to love deeply, and to pass on the flame of a life well lived.