The Most Uncomfortable Question
If Your Eulogy Was Read Tomorrow, Would You Be Proud?
One day people will gather to talk about your life. They will speak about the life you lived, the things you did, your character, but most telling of all, how you made them feel. They will talk about the version of you they experienced. Whether you did the things you always said you would do. What you stood for. They will talk about your potential and whether you fulfilled it or not.
My birthday is fast approaching and with each passing year I find myself thinking about death more and more. Not in a morbid or obsessive manner, but an admission that though I have no idea when my time will come, it will come and it’s the closest it’s ever been.
Yikes.
I treat most things as urgent though I try not to rush (big difference). “Don’t leave for tomorrow what can be done today” is a principle I live by; how can I assume tomorrow is a given? It may be uncomfortable initially to think about but recognising my mortality reinforces my desire to live with intention.
My thoughts have moved beyond ambition and achievement lately. I’ve been thinking about impact. Most of us would love to contribute to something that changes the world for the better, but how about what’s immediately around us? How are we impacting the people closest to us?
When it’s all said and done and they gather to remember us, what will they say? Will they say I was kind? Brave? Honest? Faithful? Will they say what they genuinely felt or would they speak out of social obligation? I’ve been thinking a lot about how I make people feel.
Those questions led me to a concept I came across earlier this year: a Eulogy Life. It’s essentially about orienting our decisions and living today in a way that would make tomorrow’s eulogy align with the person we aspire to become.
It shifts the focus away from accumulating skills, income, or material possessions towards developing virtues and shaping our character. It works backwards from the life we hope to have lived and asks us what needs to change to make that future reality.
The Eulogy Life
It’s a fairly straightforward concept; the eulogy represents the final accounting (on earth) of the life we lived so we have to live according to what that final accounting will say. It’s not salaries, job titles or how many followers we have; it’s about character, relationships, intentionality and impact.
Thinking about our personal eulogy may be uncomfortable and deeply challenging because it forces us to confront a reality most of us ignore: our time here is finite. But the flipside to that: procrastination becomes less appealing.
We’re forced to analyse exactly how we’ve lived so far, based on what people would actually say rather than what we hope they’d say. If what’s said in totality depends on who’s there and who’s speaking, it might be worth asking yourself what impression you’re leaving on people through your decisions and actions.
If your eulogy was read tomorrow, what stories would fill it? How much time was spent at work? What you owned? Will it be a polite summary of your life curated by ChatGPT? Or will it be filled with what author David Brooks calls Eulogy Virtues - kindness, integrity, humility, courage, diligence, etc - that matter most?
Death is one of life’s great equalisers. It comes for everyone regardless of social status, wealth, power, education, race, influence or any other hierarchical construct of society. It has this unique ability to strip life down to what actually matters.
Have you ever noticed what happens after attending a funeral? We leave saying, “life is precious”, “I should do more”, “I should spend more time with…”, “I need to stop putting things off” etc etc. It leads to greater appreciation of life. Temporarily anyway.
It brings clarity and forces perspective. And it brings into sharp focus the disparity between the version of ourselves we would like to be when it’s our time to go and the version of ourselves today. It highlights the gap in character that we need to close.
It reminds us that life isn’t theoretical, time isn’t unlimited and potential isn’t permanent. We can’t keep arrogantly telling ourselves “there’s still time”. Arrogance and complacency underpin the idea that we get to decide that there’s still time.
The Gap
When I imagine what might be said at my funeral, I have to be brutally honest with myself. People won’t speak about the idealised version of me that exists in my head. They’ll speak about the day-to-day version they actually encountered.
I also think about my daughter, future children if God wills it, and my family sitting there listening to stories about my life and what they would have to say. If I’m honest the thought sometimes makes my chest tight. Makes me feel a tad anxious.
Not that I fret over it, but will my life be filled with unfulfilled potential and underachievement? Will people speak about a life well lived? Will there be a “but” attached to my story?
“He had big dreams but...”
“He always talked about it but...”
“He could have but...”
There’s a gap between who we actually are and who we aspire to be. We all have one. It’s not so much about whether the gap exists; it’s more about if we’re honestly facing it, how wide it is and whether we’re actively working towards closing it.
A lot of us pretend like the gap doesn’t exist. Or rather, we avoid the discomfort entirely. We give ourselves credit for our intentions rather than actions. We view ourselves through the lens of the good person we plan to become, while ignoring the evidence of who we choose to be every day.
We treat aspiration as the completion of transformation. Pay close attention to the effort put into goal setting, vision boarding, New Year resolutions and the immediate gratification that comes with it versus the effort put into the day-to-day action.
Character is built by our daily choices, not intention alone.
Final Thoughts
The Bible repeatedly reminds us that our lives matter because one day we will give an account for them. A final evaluation of time spent. I let my mind drift and wonder if it will be like a big screen replaying my life or more like a Morgan Freeman narration of it.
Matthew 12:36 (NIV) tells us,
“But I tell you that everyone will have to give account on the day of judgment for every empty word they have spoken”.
Empty words mean different things to different people, but as a baseline, they’re words that essentially mean nothing. For me, empty words are often words without follow-through. Declarations without action and intentions without commitment.
“I’ll start next week”, “Let’s catch up”, “One day I will do it”.
I am weary of people who make these declarations but don’t follow with action. Not because perfection is required, but because of integrity and character. How can I trust your word when you have a track record of inaction? It’s an issue of alignment.
When I was younger, I’d get asked who my role models were and I’d mention someone super-rich and materially successful. As I approach the midway point, I realise I look up to and admire people whose words and lives match. What they say is what they do so their words carry weight because their actions consistently support it.
When it’s time to give an account to God, I pray my life reveals that I maximised my time, my gifts and resources for His glory. When my eulogy is read out, I pray it reveals I followed through on my intentions and lived a full life with no regrets about how my time was spent.
Let me make it abundantly clear, the goal isn’t simply to leave behind a good reputation. It’s to live a life that pleases God, where He says to us “well done good and faithful servant”. A life lived this way by default is a eulogy life.
If you’re to take one thing away from this newsletter, it’s a renewed sence of urgency. Thinking about a eulogy isn’t living with a fear of death; it’s about recognising our days are numbered so we need to make each one count.
The version of ourselves we want to be isn’t a destination we “arrive” at. It’s not waiting for us. It’s a daily choice so start living as if your eulogy is already being read. Imagine the life you want remembered and close the gap between that vision and your daily choices.
As always, make a decision that future you will be grateful for.
Have a great weekend!
CT
