“The question of the times:” “How shall I live?  This is the question that needs the immediate answer. “What should be the conduct of my life?” How should I live my life?

The conduct of life is the way we live our life to the fullest. The way we make our life fruitful and worthy to live. Most of us think that our conduct of life is the regular curriculums, following our daily monotonous routines and the day ends. But the question arises that are we making any difference in the way our life has been from the past so many years? Many people spend their lives in following the routines they have made in the past. These are the people working day and night just to maintain their same routine.

But the question still haunts us “are we making any difference?” With the era of hi-tech gadgets, super-fast trains and the light bolting speeds , our lives are spent every day in meeting the deadlines of the routines that we have made for ourselves .These are the clutches that hold us so tight that we refrain ourselves from doing something out of our daily life conduct.

According to the recent study in psychology in Roskilde University, Denmark the 75% of the time by an average person in spent in thinking and worrying about the future and planning the routines of the day. The time which is to be spent in making a difference in life is spent planning the time table of the next day.

The aim of the life is lost. The experience of the “new” is lost. Our life should be spent in making our tomorrow better than today. In the effort of learning something new that adds worth to our and others lives. Many of us cry that our lives are hard. But my friends the following word express the “mantra” of life.

Inch by inch life is a Cinch

Yard by yard life is hard.

Ralph Waldo Emerson has summarized the question of the need in his works called the CONDUCT OF LIFE .The complete notion of living our lives has been beautifully expressed in his poems.

Grace, Beauty, and Caprice
build this golden portal;
Graceful women, chosen men
dazzle every mortal:
Their sweet and lofty countenance
His enchanting food;
He need not go to them, their forms
beset his solitude.
He looketh seldom in their face,
His eyes explore the ground,
the green grass is a looking–glass
whereon their traits are found.
Little he says to them,
so dances his heart in his breast,
their tranquil mien bereaveth him
of wit, of words, of rest.
Too weak to win, too fond to shun
the tyrants of his doom,
the much deceived Endymion
Slips behind a tomb.