Project Death Day
Start Living the Life You've Always Wanted
Death is the ultimate victor. Always has been, always will be. It claims the lives of every one of us. We all know this, so why is it, then, for most of us death often seems like a far-off proposition?
For me, death has always been present; it’s just always been through the lives of others around me. But a front-row seat to others’ loss and misery doesn’t quite have the same sting as a more personal experience.
Luckily enough, throughout my adult life death has been basically nonexistent within my circle. As such, the prospect of my own death has mostly been something that didn’t seem like it would come to fruition any time soon.
This hasn’t always been the case, however. In my early years, I never believed I would live very long, much less prosper in any real way. Honestly, I never believed I’d even see the ripe age of twenty-six. I’m not sure why twenty-six was the magic number of living years I had, but for some unexplained reason, it was. As a result, when I was younger – with the end feeling so close – I lived my life with urgency. I lived my life with a purpose; a purpose to actually live before the final grain of sand reached the bottom of the hourglass.
As I grew older, seeing twenty-six suddenly started to seem like a real possibility. Then, it felt like it was right around the corner. It felt that way because it absolutely was, and soon, corner twenty-six was in the rearview, with what seemed like miles and miles of endless straightness ahead. My end – once fully anticipated – was now far away in the opposite direction; the end was now a forgone event.
My once purposeful life – my life of urgency – faded. It was as if I had all the time in the world to live, to be, to accomplish.
Anyone with kids will tell you, life goes by fast. “One minute I was holding them in my arms, and the next they were graduating!” is something most of us have heard at one time or another, and I’d be lying if I hadn’t said (and experienced) this myself with my own children. Yet we act as though it’s only the kids who are growing older; only the children who are changing.
All of us grow older at the same rate. Time continually rolls down the road, navigating the twists, turns and straights, whether you like it or not. We see corners in our lives because we are in them. We see corners in our lives because we must purposefully turn the wheel. We don’t worry about the unseen ahead, especially the straight bits. We don’t worry about what can’t be seen right in front of us. We tend to focus on unknown hazards and detours only when they pop up. We tend to lose focus on the mere possibility of their existence when they aren’t here in the present.
But death, through loss, has a way of changing you; a way of focusing you on the present.
The recent death of my mother brought contemplation and a realization that I must focus on every mile of the road ahead and accept that my abrupt dead end is coming toward me at the speed of life. It’s not just those you love and those that are closest to you that are moving forward into the inevitable. You, too, are in the flow of traffic.
Death tends to make one ponder their own mortality; to make one focus on changing their mindset and behaviors. Not only does death change through loss, but the loss allows you to gain perspective and provides motivation needed to change mindsets and behaviors that have been out of focus.
Restructuring your thought process around death and the process of living helps you see what you’ve lost and how much you have to gain.
Enter: Project Death Day
If I were to regain my purposeful life – my life once filled with urgency – I would also have to regain the sense that it was all coming to an end. The wheels of thought churning, I broke out a calendar.
My mother died in November 2023.
For me to live at least the life – the precise number of days – my mother did, I would need to live until Sunday, November 1st, 2054, a little over thirty years from now. A mere thirty years. Half my life has already been spent; less than half awaits me.
Obviously, I’d love the opportunity to live longer than my mother did but focusing on living at least as long as she did – focusing on a finite and ever closing-in expiration date – would help put life into a different, fleeting perspective. A new-found perspective of urgency; a purposeful life regained.
Who has been an inspiration for you in your life?
Who is someone you admire who is now gone?
Who is someone who truly lived and someone you’d love to emulate – and even surpass – in your short time left on this earth?
Find your person. Do some math and find out how much time you have left to reach the age they were lucky enough to touch.
Once you have a date, you now have your theoretical death day. This is the date at which you will strive to live to see. This is the date that will make you realize just how little time you have left on this earth to truly live your life.
Birth to November 1st, 2054… I’ve got work to do.
How about you?
Follow, share, and join Project Death Day with your friends and family. Have fun with it and start living the life you’ve always wanted.
You can follow me and my journey here, as well as on Instagram, Facebook and YouTube (@realtayjones).
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You’ve got this.
Let’s go!