The best way to live is thinking about dying

When all is said and done, what will they say about you?

Last week, I was at a funeral for a dear family friend. A vibrant, beautiful woman who was 45. Her name was Britta.  She left behind a thriving career, 3 beautiful children and an adoring husband. 

In the past, funerals used to be really uncomfortable and sad for me. And they’re still sad, of course. But lately, my experience when coming face to face with mortality has shifted into something more profound and, honestly, beautiful. 

Maybe this is a normal part of getting older and maturing into ourselves. It’s certainly also because of a book that really turned my world upside down in 2021. I was already in the middle of a personal pandemic on top of the global one we all experienced — loss, divorce, debilitating isolation, a life-changing diagnosis in my family. So when 4000 Weeks: Time Management for Mortals dropped into my lap, I was primed to take a deep look at my life so far. Its arrival in my life was so uncannily timed that it felt like a divine message, telling me that all the sadness and fear that was drowning me might actually be put to use.  

The premise is pretty simple. The average person has 4000 weeks to live, the equivalent of nearly 77 years. For whatever reason, 4000 weeks doesn’t seem as long as 77 years. Weeks are the stuff of work calendars and PTO. What’d you do this week? Let’s meet back in 2 weeks. Last week I did x. We talk in weeks, but we don’t usually conceive of a lifetime that way.

I tell pretty much everyone I meet about this book, but I always advise them: Do not pick this book up if you’re not ready to think about your mortality. Do not pick it up if you’re looking for comfort. I was basically at rock bottom, and a few months before, this book would’ve been too hard — and that’s ok. Comfort, solace, and a guide through the darker times of your life are not bad things to seek. But if you’re at a point where you feel pulled to look the dark right in the face, I recommend it. Like me, the first thing you’ll probably do is take your age and multiply it by 52. At the time of writing this, I’ve lived 2003 weeks so far. 

Britta lived for 2350 weeks. Of course, 4000 weeks is the average. Some of us get more. Some get less. She got a lot less. The point of the book is to get your attention and wake you up to thinking about how you spend your time. Time is really the only true measure of your life. I found it liberating to think about my life not as a series of accomplishments, or a narrative or a path, but as simply time allotted, time I could choose to spend in one way or another. It refocused me on my experience of living.

This is what led me to the revelation around how much time we spend at work, which I’ve talked about so much on this substack already, and heard so many of your stories confirming an essential fact: We spend so much of our time working that if we don’t love it, it’s nearly impossible to love life overall. It’s basic math. You can have hundreds of wonderful experiences and achievements, but if 70% of your time is spent in something that brings you little or no joy, then — I think — that is the truest description of your life overall. 

Most of us are existing. We’re not living. Living is active. It’s intentional. It’s purposeful. Living means we are making things happen. In living, you feel empowered. Existing is passive. Existing is not intentional. Existing means things feel like they are happening to us. Life feels powerless. 

Either one is a choice. Choosing a more purposeful approach doesn’t mean you will avoid unhappiness or discomfort or boredom or frustration, but it may give you the chance to have all those inevitable experiences in service of something you choose.

Over the last few years, I’ve taken great strides to be more intentional in the life I want to live. I moved across the country, left a corporate job, had to let go of some friends, develop new relationships, and prioritize different things.  It’s what led me to Manual, the idea around the best work of your life and so much more. I think I’ll talk more about what this has meant in detail at some point, but for now, I’d like to leave you with some questions for all who are frustrated, uncertain, stuck or lost, yet feeling that there’s more for you, if you could only find it.  

Ask yourself: 

• When all is said and done, and you are no longer on this earth, what do you want people to say about you?

• How did you live?

• How did they feel when they were with you? 

• And what did you contribute to the world? How did you leave it better than when you arrived? 

I can tell how intentional Britta was with her precious 2350 weeks by how people spoke about her at her funeral. Everyone is spoken about positively at their funeral, and I think we all know that money, status, and possessions rarely enter into the picture. But what struck me at Britta’s service was the clarity and consistency in their descriptions of her. Their stories and memories evoked a depth of character, where even the smallest encountered left a mark. The common themes in how she made them feel and what she accomplished on earth was potent proof that she lived in a chosen, purposeful way. 

If you’re not sure how to answer these questions for yourself, a great place to start is to ask 3 people you love and trust to answer them for you now. Ask them: “if I died today, what would you say at my funeral about how I lived, how you felt when you were around me and what I contributed to the world?” 

Have a tissue nearby. You’ll be surprised what people actually think and feel about you in the best way.

Sending you so much love,

M