Writing your own obituary can help you live a better life. Here’s how to get started.
Why this works
– Clarifies what matters: Imagining how you’ll be remembered reveals your true values and priorities.
– Reduces drift: It exposes where your current habits don’t match the life you want, so you can course-correct.
– Sharpens goals: Turning “someday” wishes into sentences forces specifics—names, places, contributions.
– Strengthens relationships: You’re likely to emphasize love, kindness, and service more than titles and stuff.
– Builds courage: A clear picture of your end makes it easier to say no to distractions and yes to meaningful risks.
A quick note on emotions and safety
– Thinking about death can stir strong feelings. If you notice distress or thoughts of self-harm, pause and reach out to a trusted person or a mental health professional. If you’re in immediate danger, contact your local emergency number.
Two ways to try it
1) The 20-minute starter
– Set a timer for 5 minutes and free-write these prompts without editing:
– What would I be proud to have people say about my character?
– Who did I love well? Who felt safe and seen because of me?
– Where did I make a difference beyond myself?
– What did I learn, create, or teach that will outlast me?
– Spend 10 minutes shaping your notes into a short, simple obituary (150–300 words).
– Use the final 5 minutes to circle phrases you most want to be true. These become your near-term focus.
2) The deeper, 60–90 minute exercise
– Set the scene: Quiet space, phone off. Bring a photo that reminds you of love or purpose.
– Choose a lens:
– Newspaper obituary (factual, concise), or
– Eulogy (warmer, story-rich), or
– Two versions: one for each.
– Imagine the audience: A grandchild, a close friend, a colleague, your community. Write as if they’re speaking.
– Time horizons: Draft two obituaries—one as if you died at your current age plus five years, and one at 90+. The gap highlights what to prioritize now vs. later.
– Write your first draft covering:
– Origins: Where you came from, key formative moments.
– Relationships: Who mattered most; how you showed up for them.
– Character: The virtues people saw repeatedly (kind, brave, fair, curious).
– Work and craft: Not just roles, but what you built or improved and for whom.
– Service and impact: Specific people or places better off because you were here.
– Joys and avocations: Hobbies, art, faith, nature—what lit you up.
– Turning points: Risks taken, failures redeemed, values upheld under pressure.
– Legacy: What continues—people mentored, traditions, ideas, places, causes.
– Edit for verbs and evidence: Replace vague claims with lived habits and stories.
– Instead of “She valued community,” try “He hosted a monthly supper that linked new neighbors to old-timers.”
– Extract the to-live list:
– Underline 5–7 sentences you want to be true but aren’t fully yet.
– For each, write one behavior you could repeat weekly for 90 days to move it toward truth.
A simple template you can follow
– Full name, age, place: [Name], [age], of [place], died on [date], surrounded by [who].
– Early life: Born to [parents] in [city], [Name] grew up [brief context].
– Relationships: [Spouse/partner], [children], [friends], [mentors/mentees].
– Work and contribution: [Roles] at [organizations], where [specific impact].
– Character and values: Known for [3–5 traits] shown through [concrete behaviors].
– Passions and joys: [Hobbies, causes, traditions].
– Community and service: [Volunteer roles, advocacy, generosity].
– Stories that shaped them: [1–2 meaningful anecdotes].
– Legacy: Survived by [people]. Remembered for [enduring influence]. In lieu of flowers… [preferred cause].
Turning it into life changes
– Create a “living obituary checklist”
– Relationships: Schedule the calls, write the letters, plan the trips. Put names and dates on your calendar.
– Health and energy: Choose one keystone habit (sleep, movement, nutrition) that makes everything else easier.
– Work with meaning: Identify the audience you serve and the problem you uniquely like solving. Ship one concrete thing each month.
– Service: Commit to one recurring act (mentoring, volunteering, hosting) with a specific cadence.
– Learning and joy: Block time for the hobby that appears in your obituary. Treat it as sacred as meetings.
– The 90-day experiment
– Pick 3 obituary lines you most want to earn.
– For each, define a weekly action, a measurable cue (when/where), and a tiny version for tough weeks.
– Review progress every Sunday; adjust without self-judgment.
– Annual review ritual
– Re-read and revise your obituary on your birthday or New Year’s.
– Ask: What became true? What still matters? What no longer fits?
– Share updates with a trusted person; ask them what they see in you.
Common pitfalls to avoid
– Resume over eulogy: Titles matter less than character and relationships. Favor virtues over achievements.
– Vague generalities: Aim for stories and specifics you—or others—could verify.
– Perfectionism: It’s a compass, not a courtroom. Draft loosely; live iteratively.
– Comparison: Your obituary is not a scoreboard. It’s a mirror for alignment.
– Privacy: Keep it secure if it includes sensitive details. Share only with people you trust.
Prompts to spark depth
– The three people who will speak at my funeral are… What do I hope each will say?
– When was I bravest? Kindest when no one was watching?
– If I could give one sentence of wisdom to those I love, it would be…
– The place I tended—garden, classroom, kitchen table, neighborhood—that made life better was…
– The apology I made that changed a relationship was…
– The boundary I kept that protected what mattered was…
– The risk I took that made me more whole was…
If you get stuck
– Write the worst-first draft—overblown, awkward, grandiose. Then cut by half.
– Record yourself talking as if you were a friend giving your eulogy. Transcribe, then edit.
– Start with one vignette—a dinner table, a Saturday ritual—and build outward.
– Ask someone close: “What do you count on me for?”
A closing thought
Writing your own obituary is not about death; it’s about direction. It gives you a north star made of your own words. Draft it, live toward it, and let it change as you do.
