Look, I get it. Thinking about your own death is pretty fucking morbid. Most of us go through life desperately trying to avoid pondering our inevitable demise. We chase superficial highs, numb ourselves with booze and Netflix binges, and get lost in the daily grind – anything to avoid confronting the cold, hard truth that none of us are making it out of here alive.
But what if, instead of running from death, we leaned into it? What if contemplating the end of our existence actually held the key to living a meaningful life?
Enter the eulogy exercise. It’s simple: imagine you’ve kicked the bucket and the people who knew you best have gathered to remember you. What would you want them to say? What kind of impact would you hope to have made? What would you like to be remembered for?
Taking the time to write out your hypothetical eulogy – the tribute to the person you aspire to become – is a powerful way to gain clarity on your life’s purpose. It forces you to cut through the noise and bullshit and zero in on what truly matters to you. When you know how you want your story to end, you can reverse engineer the path to get there.
Of course, your eulogy will evolve over time as you grow and your priorities shift. But the core essence of how you want to be remembered – the values you stand for, the dent you want to make in the universe – those things are unlikely to change dramatically. Defining your purpose and working backwards from your ideal ending is infinitely more effective than drifting aimlessly and hoping it all works out.
So grab a pen and paper, or open up a doc, and start eulogizing. Ask yourself the big questions: What principles do you want to embody? How do you want to show up for others? What legacy do you hope to leave behind? Let your answers be your North Star.
And don’t just write your eulogy once and call it a day. Set a reminder to revisit it regularly – weekly, monthly, annually, whatever works for you. Let it be a living document that you fine-tune as you evolve.
Remember, this isn’t an exercise in morbidity. It’s an opportunity to get crystal fucking clear on your purpose and design a life that will make you proud when you reach the end of your journey. So embrace your mortality, write your own damn eulogy, and go live the shit out of your one wild and precious life.