Most of us don’t think about our own death, much less the legacy we might leave. Maybe when we attend a funeral we ponder what will be said at our own. Or when a friend or family member is diagnosed with a terminal illness, we wonder what we would do, or how we would feel in the same circumstance.
These moments remind us of our mortality. Of our fragility as humans.
But if you were caught thinking about dying, or your own funeral, you might be called ‘morbid’. I’d like to challenge that. These moments, spent pondering our death have the power to shape the rest of our lives.
These are the moments, that if we choose them, can propel us to leave a powerful legacy. These moments ask us to wake up and think about what we are doing with our lives – right now.
Bronnie Ware’s experience in palliative care, inspired her to write the book that tells the stories of hundreds of people, and their regrets, as they lay, waiting to die.
The top five regrets she bore witness to were:
- I wish I’d had the courage to live a life true to myself, not the life others expected of me.
- I wish I hadn’t worked so much.
- I wish I’d had the courage to express my feelings.
- I wish I had stayed in touch with my friends.
- I wish that I had let myself be happier.
The things that don’t matter
Simplifying my life and dabbling in minimalism has made me realize that the majority of the things I thought mattered, for the last almost four decades, don’t actually matter at all.
Things like:
- Doing what other people think I should do
- How much I weigh
- How far or fast I can run
- Whether my house is immaculate and ready for visitors at a moments notice
- If I’m wearing the current fashion
- If I have the current ‘on trend’ homeware
- The fact that I downgraded from a PhD to a Masters degree.
These things do not matter. They are not forming part of my legacy. And the sooner I wake up to this the better. These things are holding me back from what does matter. The truth is, they are holding me back from leaving a legacy.
Maybe for you, it’s been things like:
- The letters at the start or end of your name
- The price of the car you just bought
- Your career
- Your SAT score’s
- Your bank balance
- The size of your house
- How many extracurricular activities your kids are enrolled in
What really matters
What will matter, to the people I love, and those I connect with, are the unspoken, intangible things.
It will matter that I wiped my kid’s noses and kissed their boo-boos every time they fell. Or that I smiled at the checkout girl and asked her how her day was going. It will matter that I took the time to pass a family recipe on to someone else. And it will matter that I made someone feel welcome.
My time, and your time, and how we spend it will matter. Not the things we leave behind.
Being present for all of our remaining days
Perhaps one of the biggest lessons we can learn from our mortality and fragility is to be present in every moment.
I don’t want to die full of anxiety about the future, or regrets about the past. I want to have lived fully in each moment, ensuring that my brain is ready and able to capture and download memories for it’s filing drawer.
Most of the time I live in a future state. I’m a task-oriented person, so I’m always thinking of what’s next on the list. I’m also constantly trying to predict the future and mitigate possible outcomes.
Like yesterday, a rainy day, home alone with the kids. I spent a good couple of hours trying to anticipate who would start the next fight and how I could stop it. I was trying to clean the house, and prepare for dinner and the next working week. When I finally gave up – because we all know trying to clean your house with the kids home is fruitless – I decided to really give up.
Laying in my kid’s teepee with my 4-year-old, reading books, I knew in an instant that these moments spent with her will be what she remembers when I’m gone. Not that the floor was vacuumed. And not that dinner was ready when she was hungry. Or that the next fight between siblings was anticipated correctly and avoided.
It will matter that I took time to be present with her. In the moment. This is what matters. People. Connection. Moments.
Is there something you can do today to choose these things over work, belongings, and money?
And is there something you can do to live more fully in the present today?
Images by Scott Webb
