Every day I wake up, I am thankful. You may hear this sentiment from many different older people as you grow up, but it is a realization I learned at the age of 28, and I am so glad I did.

I recently had a scary incident where I hit my head very directly and forcefully against the corner of my countertop at home. In the weeks following this impact, I was in the ER twice for concussion-like symptoms. For the first time in my life, I was scared of dying, and I felt like I was slipping from the world around me and losing my ability to participate. I felt like I was falling away from my loved ones.

I was raised in a Christian household. I was never taught about death and the reality of our existence. I was sheltered from that reality at every possible point where I might encounter it. I was told that we all live forever and that very little of our reality mattered in the face of our earthly eternity. 

In adulthood, I stopped identifying as a Christian but never reevaluated what that meant for my outlook on death. That reality hit me like a semi-truck as I was unable to stand and fell on the bed in the aftermath of my concussion. I never started living, and I felt like I was dying. 

For the months following the experience, the concept of death weighed heavy on my mind. I realized that I was going to die. I realized that time won’t come back. I felt very…tangible. I will wither and die like the animals I see on the side of the road. My body is nothing more than the meat and bones of the food I eat every day. I’m no magical being; I’m just a person named Joseph in a world that existed long before me and will continue to exist long after I am gone. 

This feeling was dread. My parents were going to die one day. Either I or my partner would die before the other, and one of us would live alone. I realized that older people aren’t gross raisins; they live just like I am now and are lucky to see the end. The end. What a concept.

Whenever you grow up thinking you are eternal, all the knowledge and experience you get feels meaningful. I will have an infinite amount of time to do other things, so the fact that I am spending my entire summer on the couch doesn’t matter. I spent many childhood years sitting around doing nothing, thinking I would have more time later. 

The realization that I would die makes life worth living. My life is my ultimate work of art. From the people I interact with to the lives I touch, I am living my greatest work every day I wake up. The limited nature of the art makes it worth paying attention to. The way I spend my minutes and the choices I make every day. A night spent with my partner at home is special because I could have spent that time anywhere else, but I spent it with her. That sacrifice is beauty. That choice is final. 

Metaphor: In a world increasingly full of AI-generated content, anyone with access to the internet and 5 minutes of free time could go online and create an infinite amount of music. Literally, an algorithm would make noise for an endless amount of time. Those sounds aren’t art. They are just the whims of a computer. Who cares if it doesn’t hit the note? It needs to be impactful; it’ll just keep going until maybe it does one day. But if it does, who cares. Nothing was lost. The same can’t be said about the music humans create. An artist thinks up the best way to utilize each second. The beginning, middle, and end of a song and/or album make it matter. Their choices will define that work because it is only long enough to include a limited amount of content.

For the young readers viewing this, I challenge you to look at the world through the eyes of your future self. Look at your hands and imagine them wrinkly and scared. Blink slowly and imagine the skin on your face becoming baggy and soft. Now, look out the window and see the trees, the birds, the sounds of nature, or the sounds of life (children playing, traffic, and even people fighting outside). Imagine this was the last time you got to see those things. 

In this mindset, think about what your older self might say. “I wish I would have just one more day here. I wish I had more time”. Now, come back to your current body. Notice your youth. Realize that you will likely hear the sounds and experience the life outside your window for many years to come. Feel how lucky you are. And when you think about the older version of yourself that you just imagined, think about how much of an honor and privilege it would be to experience so many more years of living that you can be that older version of yourself. 

No day is guaranteed. Nothing is certain. Keep finding the things that serve you and help you craft your life’s masterwork. Live your story. Appreciate the beauty of the world through the eyes of your future self. 

Do not despair. This life is beautiful. The ending is just as beautiful as the end. I hope you appreciate every step of the way there.