Some non-morbid thoughts on death

Several times a day, I like to remind myself of this fun fact: I’m going to die.*

Okay, maybe it’s not a fun fact. But it’s a helpful fact, at least for me.

As you might know, the official name of this practice is memento mori — Latin for “remember that you will die.” Many traditions, including Stoicism and Buddhism, endorse versions of memento mori. They were popular in Christian art of the Renaissance, where oil paintings often included images of skulls and hourglasses as a visual way to say, “Hey, don’t forget your body has an expiration date!”

I have my own techniques to remind myself of the ultimate deadline. Instead of oil paintings, my memento mori involve screensaver photos and reminder notes on my iPhone. I also try to avoid the gloomy-emo-goth vibe in favor of a perkier memento mori (see below).

I know m.m.s aren’t for everyone. Some find the practice too macabre, a fast-track to anxiety and nihilism. But for me, thinking of my impending death is the opposite of a buzzkill. It helps me reset my priorities. It’s an anxiety-soother, a perspective-setter. It nudges me to embrace joy and kindness. It’s my favorite time management tool.

Maybe it’s that I just spent 10 days battling strep throat, or maybe it’s that I found the election results a tad sub-optimal, but I thought I’d devote today’s Substack to thinking about death (in a joyful way).

MY PERSONAL MEMENTO MORIS

I respect the classic memento mori in literature, art, and history. (I particularly like the ancient Roman memento mori in which a conquering general in his victory parade was followed by a servant who whispered in his ear, “Remember, you are mortal.”)

But I prefer my homemade versions. Here are three:

1. My laptop screensaver consists of a rotating series of hundreds of photos from my life — birthday parties, trips,  etc. But I make sure at least 10 percent of those photos are of friends or relatives who have recently passed. Whenever the image of a recently deceased friend pops up, I get a bittersweet combination of reminders: First, that I had the joy of knowing that person; and second, that someday I’ll be following their lead.

2. I like the idea of the skull as a visual reminder, which is a classic memento mori trope. But I also find realistic skull images offputting. So on my laptop desktop, along with other icons, I have an image of a cute Hello Kitty cartoon skull. Sort of goth meets adorbs.

   

3. In my iPhone Notes list of tasks, I’ve got reminders to do pushups and send a daily gratitude note to my mom. But I also have:

   “Remember you’re going to die, so make the most of the hours/days/months/years you have left.”

(There’s something about naming the specific time periods I find helpful).

If other folks have modern memento mori they find helpful, I’d love to hear about them. I know my friend Ryan Holiday at Daily Stoic sells memento mori rings, and that you can download memento mori countdown-to-death apps, though I haven’t tried those.

THE BENEFITS — AND POTENTIAL DRAWBACKS — OF MEMENTO MORIS

As I mentioned, I find memento mori have multiple benefits. They give me a grander perspective, inspire me to act, remind me to savor life and be kind. When a deceased friends pop up on my screen, I try to imagine what advice they might give me:

“Hey, you should probably spend a little less time thinking about that YouTube comment that your upper lip is too thin. Instead, spend more time cherishing your friends and family, and savoring the taste of Trader Joe’s seasonal peppermint ice cream, and starting projects that you’ve always put off.”

But I also know memento mori can lead to unhealthy thinking, so let me address two pitfalls:

MEMENTO MORIS ARE NOT EXCUSES TO ACT LIKE A SELFISH, IRRESPONSIBLE ASS

One danger is that focusing too much on death can lead to overly YOLO reasoning, such as:

“Hey, this could be my last day on earth. Therefore, I must seize the day, embrace YOLO, gather my rosebuds, live in the moment, live like there’s no tomorrow, follow my every whim and desire and impulse, etc.”

I’ve succumbed to this type of thinking many times, but in the end, I’m not a fan. It is possible I’ll die tomorrow, but statistically I probably won’t. My time is limited, but that doesn’t mean I should go 100 percent Dionysus and toss Apollo aside.

Memento moris should inspire me to act boldly, but not rashly.

Here’s how I try to think of this:

Possible reaction: Seize the day!

Better reaction: Seize the decade!

Don’t live like this is my final day. Instead, maybe I should consider it’s possibly my final decade. Make the most of every moment, but that doesn’t mean nonstop ketamine-fueled hot tub orgies. It could mean starting a multi-year project right now.

Possible reaction: YOLO (short for, “You only live once!”)

Better reaction: YOLOBKIMOPOLOAWSTTBROTATH (short for, “You only live once, but keep in mind other people only live once as well, so try to be respectful of them and their happiness.”)

Catchy, I know! But the point is, memento mori should not be an excuse to act like a selfish irresponsible dick.

Possible reaction: Live for the moment

Better reaction: Live for the moment, but also future moments.

Use some of your current moments to delay gratification and ensure meaningful future moments for you and your loved ones.

I’m a lot of fun, right?

FATALISM, NIHILISM AND ‘ALL IS FUTILE’ THINKING

Another potential pitfall of memento mori is that they devalue life and inspire nihilism.

This has a long history. In fact, the very purpose of memento mori in early Christian art and literature were to devalue your current life so you could focus on the afterlife. The idea was: Earthly pleasures are fleeting and vain. Renounce them so you can have eternal happiness in heaven.

In a secular context, it’s even more depressing: If I’m going to die in the end, it makes no difference what I do. Nothing matters.

Recently, I’ve been on a Kurt Vonnegut reading jag (I feel like his absurdity is a good fit for modern times). The narrator in his book Jailbird makes this point on a more cosmic scale:

“The human condition in an exploding universe would not have been altered one iota if, rather than live as I have, I had done nothing but carry a rubber ice-cream cone from closet to closet for sixty years.”

I’ve had thoughts like these many times. But I try to resist them — because I think they’re based on a fallacy. The fallacy is that the only thing that matters is the end, and that the beginning and middle count for nothing. This mindset neglects the journey to focus exclusively on the destination.

If I were to talk to Vonnegut’s character, I’d say that perhaps you can’t alter the ultimate ending state of humanity, since the heat death of the universe will take care of that.

But contrary to the quote, you can alter the human condition. You can alter your experiences, and the experiences of those around you. You can provide happiness and create meaning. If Kurt Vonnegut himself had decided to focus on rubber ice cream cones instead of writing wonderful books, my life would be so much poorer, and millions of others would as well. Kurt Vonnegut altered the human condition many iotas.

Anyway, I’ll end there. Have a great day — and remember, someday you will die, so gather ye rosebuds (but also help others gather their rosebuds. And make sure only to gather rosebuds that want to be gathered. And also gather other stuff besides rosebuds, it’s not all about rosebuds).**

*Unless the most optimistic life extension Silicon Valley types are correct, and they can solve aging before I log out of my body. But even then, the end is delayed but not eliminated. The heat death of the universe is a tough one to survive.

**For more on memento mori, check out the newish book “Memento Mori: The Art of Contemplating Death to Live a Better Life,” by Joanna Ebenstein, which contains exercises and journal prompts related to m.m.’s. I’m in the middle of it and enjoying it very much.

(Opening image by Banksy)