What I think about when I think about death
I don’t. I don’t think about death. I’ve been fortunate enough not to experience significant loss in my life so far, and I’m frankly not at the age where I consider death as a practicality: if my life ended soon, it’d be premature and unexpected. I don’t believe in an afterlife, but would be pleasantly surprised if it wasn’t all black. If there was some sort of heaven and hell, I’d consider it unjust to put me in the latter, but I’m not sure what the meterstick would be. Reincarnation would be cool.
Recently however, a colleague said something that gave me more perspective on my mortality. We were talking about career goals, and she said that she has about twenty more years of work until she retires, but she also wanted to retire as a director. She then outlined some career development milestones to achieve in order to hit that: senior manager in around five years, so she could make a push for director in ten. That was a mind-blowing way of thinking: I usually thought of how to achieve the next step of my development, how I could achieve that as soon as possible, sometimes I would think about a goal I wanted to achieve and work backwards similar to her, but never about what I wanted to achieve at the end of my career, and wind down the years like she did. In a way, that’s a pragmatic and perhaps more effective way to set career goals.
Similarly, I recently started listening to Peter Attia’s The Drive podcast, a show centered around health and aging well. The stated objective of the host is to live to a hundred and live well while being a hundred: Peter Attia has a laundry list of items he wants to be able to do at a hundred, and taking muscle atrophy, mobility reduction, metabolistic deterioration, breaks down what he has to be able to do at eighty, then at sixty, then at forty, and then what I should be doing now. Of course, some of his suggestions are new New Age pseudoscience with dubious studies involving tenuous r-squared coefficients, but as a whole the advice isn’t bad, and is infinitely helpful when serving as a guideline in how to live my life. Of course, I don’t follow all the suggestions he provides, but they do provide a certain amount of structure.
Both my colleague and Peter Attia have a similar fatalistic outlook on life that for me is the new definition of aging. Instead of counting the things they’ve done and that they want to do, they count what they still can do. It’s not soul-sucking, it’s practical, and probably for the best. But what young person works backwards from what they consider a practical final state: senior management at a corporation, or being able to do a bodyweight squat? It’s effective, but shows the age of the counter and how they are concerned with the end of it all. Anything is possible when you’re young, the world is full of infinite possibility. It’s only the realities of age that clip ones wings.
What are my dreams? When I was younger, I recall specifically wanting a pied-a-terre in New York, Shanghai, and Paris. Soon this was reduced to just a bookshop and apartment in Paris, and these days I don’t even think about that much. I also remember wanting to have kids very young, so they would be healthy and I would be full of energy to spend with them. I’m not even sure if I want children anymore. What are my dreams right now? I have a completely unfounded belief that I could cut it as a standup comedian. I think it’d be fun to climb the corporate ladder some more. I also want to be an established writer, a published novelist. Is that so much to ask for in this little life? Will I abandon those dreams too, as age takes its toll and introduces the creaking joints of life, the aching muscles of reality?
However, I have become increasingly aware of my physical mortality: knees, muscles, ankles, back, and recently dislocated finger. Recovering from a late night becomes more difficult, I’ve noticed a need to eat more fibre, and I use a water flosser now. Though I haven’t started counting down the same way Peter Attia does, it is with the idea of preserving health that I adhere to fitness: dieting to stay healthy instead of gaining weight, weightlifting for strength instead of musculature, sleeping for how much I want instead of how much I need, and running for fitness instead of times. Of course, gaining muscle and running fast aren’t off the books, but they’ve taken a backseat once I’ve realized that health outcomes in life aren’t perfectly aligned to aesthetic or fitness outcomes. In effect, I’ve sacrificed dreams of athletic greatness, as far-fetched as they were, for health.
The question is if I need to adopt a similar approach towards my other ambitions: should I scale down my big dreams into more realistic substitutes? Perhaps give up my dream of becoming a respected novelist and instead become a celebrity blogger? Trade in my ambitions of climbing the corporate ladder for a quiet role in middle management? I see many of my friends start to come to terms with these choices: few have enough fire in their belly to pursue a demanding professional services vocation anymore, and even fewer their own innovative ventures. Some of the most ambitious and smart people I know have become contented just taking home a paycheque.
The difference between being content to rest on ones laurels and making a practical tradeoff is if the goals are at odds with one another. In the running example, a couple of varied runs a week, in pace and length, are good for the health, but constantly training for marathons starts to wear down the body. Dropping out of a cushy corporate job to pursue an AI adjacent startup is a crapshoot, and might indefinitely stall a return to the corporate ladder. Neither a single marathon, nor a short independent venture run counter to general health or a corporate career, but it can certainly get to that point after one too many races or companies.
So now that it’s on my mind, what do I think about death? Am I starting to limit my ambitions to prolong my life? After some reflection, I’ve come to the happy answer that I’m not yet there. Though I do exercise for health more than for achievement recently, I’ll still attempt physical challenges, and I’ve recently decided to give Muay Thai a try. Though I have realized that my corporate role is quite enjoyable and I can see myself staying there for a while, I am open to new exciting opportunities. And though these short essays are easier to write and sustain, a short story every so often won’t disrupt my habits. Though I have developed a longer view of things and trimming some goals, I haven’t started counting back from the day I die just yet, and that’s what’s important. Death remains an abstract concept for me.
