Good Life for a Good Death
A version of this was published in 2017 when I lived in Asheville, NC, and the piece below was written to my Substack, Life Coach from Hell, on October 31, 2023
In Autumn, nature itself appears to die -- as leaves fall off the trees and transition into the next part of their life cycle, decomposing on the ground (if they’re left alone and not bagged and landfilled).
Those leaves that brought shade and pleasure through spring, summer, and autumn are not dead or gone, they’ve just transitioned into their next phase where they create food and fuel for the rebirth in the spring.
In late fall and winter, we have the chance to observe the statuesque beauty of the tall and unique formations of the naked branches.
As one of my favorite signs from the Phipps Conservatory in Pittsburgh says “I’m not dead, I’m dormant.”
We are nature too, yet we (in most of the United States) avoid talking about death so much, we rarely acknowledge that it is coming -- and it always seems to be discussed as something to fear.
When we do acknowledge death’s inevitability, we can also realize how crucial it is to infuse our lives with gusto and to really live while we have this cool opportunity.
I like being surrounded by flowers: roses, dahlias, wildflowers, anything. Though cut flowers only maintain their fresh beauty for a short time, they can continue to bring delight long after their initial brightness (youth) has faded. They may look dead to some, but dried roses and many other flowers offer a different type of elegance, and often their scent grows stronger.
Weird bouquets I made of things I found while walking around Asheville & hanging my roses to prolong the smell (I think the smell is even more yummy when they’re drying than when they’re fresh)
Similarly, humans can continue to evolve and grow even after death in the memories of those they’ve left behind.
Though I may not be able to spend time in person with my grandma, the times that we spent together have created lasting impressions that I remember and relish again and again.
And when the anniversaries for the deaths of friends come up this year, I will still be sad that we can’t go for a walk or make dinner together. And also disappointed for the world that we lost the chance to see what these brilliant and wonderful women might have created with more time. But they lived deep, meaningful lives and touched so many in the short time they walked here, and I’m fortunate to have known and been so inspired by them.
Since we have no idea how much time we have left , it’s essential that we make the most of it. Most of us could benefit from being more intentional about how we spend our valuable and limited time — not wasting it, and certainly not “killing it.” This can be done in so many small ways every single day.
To start, slow down, turn off your phone, and be more present, as often as possible. Try to enjoy the moment, even if it’s uncomfortable. Consider what is making it uncomfortable and see if you can change it.
Some questions you might ask yourself:
Are you doing, day to day, what you want to be doing? In what way?
Are you achieving things that make you confident you’re using your talents?
Are you creating memories you’d be happy to look back on?
Are you living where you want to be?
Are you eating foods that support your body and mind?
Are you surrounded by “stuff” that adds value to your life?
Are you surrounded by people who inspire and nourish you?
Are you satisfied, content, even happy living the life you are now — or are you postponing your dreams until the “someday” when they’ll be convenient and easy?
Are you waiting until retirement to take that trip you’ve always wanted?
I can help you turn things around and live a free of death bed regrets.
