Death Ruminations
Thinking of the end, and then working backward—the clarity of the inevitable deadline
I think about death every other day, if not every day. Not that I have a fascination with it, but it does serve as an overall compass, a deadline, a sense of finality to the life that I imagine, theorize about, and plan for.
I think about death the way I would think of retirement if I began a new job, or succession if I were elected the president of my nation. I think about it first, and then I work backward.
At an early age, I got to know that people die, and that it doesn’t matter what those left behind will think and feel; I got to see that death ushers in irreversible realities.
Many people fear death, or at least don’t like to talk about it, but I think to do so is to forfeit the clarity that this inevitable deadline brings.
I look at myself when taking on a task or job, I imagine how my life would be if this ended up being what I did for the rest of it, and then I ask myself, “If this is what you did until the end of time, would you die a happy man?” I ask these things when evaluating friendships and relationships; I ponder over them when choosing people or letting them choose me.
I ask these questions when evaluating how I treat people or let them treat me. “If this is all I will ever know, will it have been a good life? Will I be happy that this is how I’ve treated others and let them treat me?”
I try to minimize my regrets, for I have seen them increase as the years go by for many people. I’ve generally found that this does make decision-making easier. There are things I don’t want, the life I wouldn’t be proud of. I am clear on these things now, and I would resent it if my life ended and they became all I ever did and knew.
The jobs I don’t deem the best utilization of my labor; the relationships I don’t see as the best expression of my love.
Of course, and as it happens with many people, we could die before getting to where we want. But I think this is a better ending, still, for it will be in the pursuit of what we wanted. Life is hard, and all things take time, but every day we work towards the things we want, we get closer to them.
If I dropped dead now, there can be no confusion about what I thought about things. I have published a book, The Practice of Living, which is a record of my thoughts, perspectives, and interpretations. I write this newsletter where I communicate even more of my thoughts.
Things will end for all of us, and sometimes they end suddenly. Still, for most of us, there will have been enough time—enough to live, enough to document that life, all in a way that will make sense to those who will be curious to know why we thought the things we thought and did what we did.
Living the life you want will never come easy. If it did, it would be a thing everyone finds. Many don’t. By the time we are born, there are templates ready for us, and some just learn to like these. It’s okay if all one will ever want is what others have wanted and chosen for him. There’s nothing to regret when death comes knocking.
But my observation and judgment are that many more people want more than they are currently getting. They wish their jobs weren’t so dislikable; they wish their relationships were unions that brought them more joy. They wish they were bolder; they wish they were truer. Something else bothers them even more: they wish they could admit to themselves how much these things bother them.
But then they think and feel that time has elapsed. They don’t like what they have; they don’t like what they’re doing; they don’t like the very definition of their lives now. They know they will never grow to like it, and they pray that this doesn’t end up being all there will ever be.
They fear talking about the end because they aren’t ready; they pray for more time and hope that they grow to become courageous somewhere along the journey. But they are fearful, for how will they learn to be what they haven’t been for so many years?
Life will constrain us all, and there are things we won’t get to do. However, just as a deadline incentivizes action, so does death.
When we imagine the ending and work backward, we’ll obtain clarity, we’ll know what we really think and feel about people and things. We’ll know what effort is needed where, and we will know what things we would hate to sign out not having done.
Everything becomes clearer when there is a sense of urgency.
If you are genuinely doing what you’d be proud to be doing if death snatched you, if you are with people you would love to be with if the end came, then keep doing and being with these. If not, evaluate your concessions and compromises, and see how long you can keep justifying them.
We’ll all run out of time, but we’ll have had enough of it, still. Your views on death don’t have to be similar to mine. However, whatever orients you, whatever can serve as a general compass, seek to tap into the clarity that comes from it.
Love this! I usually remind myself of death whenever I am upset about something. I ask myself if I were to die in 24 hours would any of what I am upset about matter? The answer is always NO.
You pose the central question. A two parter, I think.
Am I happy doing what it is I am doing now?
If I died tomorrow will I have regret for dying without having accomplished that thing I’d hoped to do?
The perspective - that there is an end date to our lives, certainly lends incentive to achieve a goal, however humble or exalted (both of which could mean owning your own ice cream truck), but it also inhibits the joy found in the everyday, from smiling at a stranger on the street who made way for you to pass, or seeing someone you love for a few moments.
Likely because I was raised with the fact of death by two parents each of whom were left orphans young, that you revere the lost but step forward to live without thoughts of imminent death because it will be there, or it won’t. Little control over that day of re reckoning.