Ignoring Your Death? You May Be Wasting Your Life

“For you are dust, and to dust you shall return.” ~ Genesis 3:19

You know it’s coming.

You understand intellectually that you really have no choice in the matter.

You’ve even seen it happen to a few people close to you.

Yet, you still have a hard time wrapping your mind around the fact that one day you will die. Depending on your beliefs about what happens after someone dies, you may feel fearful, or hopeful, or nothing, or some combination of all these.

You may actually be comfortable with the reality that one day you will no longer be here, but you may be terrified by the dying process.

Maybe you’ve may seen or heard of the awful pain some people endure while dying. Maybe you fear having your life taken from you prematurely by accident, crime, or disease. Maybe you’re uncomfortable with the aging process.

No matter where you are on the continuum in your beliefs about death, it’s a subject that is difficult for many to talk about. And in our society, it’s something that’s often hidden from view, unless it’s a close family member.

Dying before your time

As a society, we’ve developed a strategy for dealing with our fears and discomfort with the reality of death.

We pretend it doesn’t exist.

What’s the most significant consequence of this? We pretend we have all the time in the world.

And so, we waste significant portions of our lives on meaningless and even harmful pursuits. Perhaps the most thought-provoking criticism of this shortcoming comes from Seneca, the Roman Stoic philosopher.

In On the Shortness of Life he invites the reader to submit to an audit of their lives in this powerful passage:

“Calculate how much of your time has been taken up by a moneylender, how much by a mistress, how much by a patron, how much by a client, how much in arguing with your wife, in punishing your slaves, in running about the city on social duties. Add to your calculations the illnesses that we’ve inflicted on ourselves, and also the time that has lain idle: you’ll see that you’ve fewer years than you count.”

Later in the passage, he delivers his most devastating critique:

“…how many have plundered your existence without you being aware of what you were losing; how much time has been lost to groundless anguish, foolish pleasure, greedy desire, the charms of society; how little is left to you from your own store of time. You’ll come to realize that you’re dying before your time.”

This is what’s at stake when we don’t consider our mortality on a regular, even daily basis. We make poor choices about how we use our time, effectively hastening the very thing we deny.

Relationships, relationships, relationships

In considering his own mortality, Tim Urban in his post, The Tail End visually represents a 90-year lifespan, considerably more than the average lifespans of both men and women. He first contemplates his remaining years in terms of events such as the number of Super Bowls or presidential elections left.

Being in his mid-thirties, Tim will still have more than 50% of these experiences left if he’s lucky enough to live to 90. But as he points out, that’s not true when it comes to the most important aspects of our lives, our relationships.

He writes:

“I’ve been thinking about my parents, who are in their mid-60s. During my first 18 years, I spent some time with my parents during at least 90% of my days. But since heading off to college and then later moving out of Boston, I’ve probably seen them an average of only five times a year each, for an average of maybe two days each time. 10 days a year. About 3% of the days I spent with them each year of my childhood.

Being in their mid-60s, let’s continue to be super optimistic and say I’m one of the incredibly lucky people to have both parents alive into my 60s. That would give us about 30 more years of coexistence. If the ten days a year thing holds, that’s 300 days left to hang with mom and dad. Less time than I spent with them in any one of my 18 childhood years.”

He concludes:

“It turns out that when I graduated from high school, I had already used up 93% of my in-person parent time. I’m now enjoying the last 5% of that time. We’re in the tail end.”

Taken together, these excerpts demonstrate to us just how much is at stake when we ignore our finitude. Most of us risk wasting our precious days on things that don’t matter and neglecting our important relationships, thinking that we have time. But as Urban so brilliantly illustrates, the only thing more precious than time itself is the quality time we have left on some of our most important relationships.

Doesn’t it seem right to fear this reality more than death itself?

From theory to real life

Lest all of this is beginning to sound theoretical, I wanted to share an excerpt from another post I came across this week. Holly Butcher, a young woman dying of cancer, wrote an open letter on Facebook expressing her thoughts on what’s most important in life. Here’s what she said mere hours before passing away:

“The days tick by and you just expect they will keep on coming; Until the unexpected happens. I always imagined myself growing old, wrinkled and grey—most likely caused by the beautiful family (lots of kiddies) I planned on building with the love of my life. I want that so bad it hurts.

That’s the thing about life; It is fragile, precious and unpredictable and each day is a gift, not a given right.”

This is no theory. Time is ticking relentlessly. How much longer will you go on with the illusion that your time will eventually run out? Cause it will likely run out sooner than you think.

Remember that you are dust

As a child, the Ash Wednesday service filled me with dread. Well, not all of it. Just the part when the priest would trace the sign of the cross on my forehead saying these words inspired by Genesis 3:19:

“Remember that you are dust and to dust you shall return.”

It was the one time of the year when I was reminded that one day, at a time and hour not of my choosing, I will die.

To this day, the words can still stir up my angst, but now I understand that the remembering is meant to help me prioritize my life. Now, I experience the reminder as a blessing instead of something to be feared.

If you’re convinced that you should fear wasting the precious days of your life more than death, you may try experimenting with tools such as Death Clock or WeCroak.

Contemplate your death to change how you live

I know it’s cliché but life really is too short to—fill in the blank.

Whether you like it or not, the story of your life, like every good story, will have an ending. Are you willing to contemplate what you might want that ending to be like?

Yes, death is hard and painful. But even more painful is the heartbreaking regret many experience on their deathbeds.

Contemplate your death daily and you will learn to stop wasting your time so you can focus on what’s truly important.

You’re more than ready to start living the life you were meant to live.