Make it Count

by Liz Dadanian

Gustav Klimt, The Tree of Life

Gustav Klimt, The Tree of Life

Imagine that on the day of your birth you are given a bank account. This bank account contains all the money you will ever have. You don’t need to do anything to earn it, it is just there, especially for you. Sounds amazing, but there is fine print; you are required to make continuous withdrawals, and you have no way of ever knowing the balance. These seem like stiff terms, but you just got here, and that’s what is printed in the welcome package. So off you go. At first, there really isn’t much reason to even think about the account. These wonderful people called parents take care of most everything for you. You’re freed up to spend all your energy learning how to cry for food, crawl, and figure out how to get your way by being cute. Years go by and there is never any reason to contemplate the constant withdrawals slowly but surely decreasing your allotment. 

One day, your awareness shifts and this whole fixed sum arrangement starts to feel a bit unsettling. Maybe you learn that your dog also had one of these diminishing accounts or maybe it’s your grandmother. You look around for answers and find that everyone else is stuck with the same deal. All of a sudden, it sets in what is going to happen to you and everyone else you love when the bank accounts are empty. Still, you try to hack it, maybe if you are very good, or ask God very nicely, you might be able to eek out a bit more for you and your loved ones.  Those lovely people called parents try their best to reassure you. They say things like, “you don’t have to worry about your bank account going empty until you’re very old,” or “you have a long line of family members with great bank accounts, so you have nothing to worry about.” All of this is only marginally comforting. That said, you keep withdrawing and nothing really bad happens. Maybe they’re right.

Decades go by and the dwindling bank account is pushed into the long-term storage recesses of your mind. While this happens, you are freed up to think about other concerns like getting ahead in your career, finding “the one,” starting a family, and how to make sure you come out on top. For years, you carefully feed and nurture these narratives, until they are the only ones you can hear. Once they really have a hold on you, you will do everything you can to protect them. That includes staying in jobs that make you sick, loving people who aren’t very good at loving you back and feeling somewhat ashamed and worthless when someone else comes out on top. At first these bad feelings just push you further into the narrative. It must be something you’re doing wrong you think. If you just give it a bit more time perhaps. Surely, the naysayers in your life will eventually come around. You try this for a really, really….really long time, maybe for another two or three decades. When you look in the mirror these days, you can’t shake the thought of that bank account. How much is left in there? Did you use what you had wisely? What can you do about it now?

As much as we hate to think about it, dying is the entry price we pay to have this earthly experience. Young or old, we all have similar sentiments about our inescapable outcome. Obviously, dwelling on death isn’t healthy. It’s coming, there is nothing we can do about it, and there is no sense in giving into irrational fears about it. It also probably doesn’t make much practical sense to “live like you’re dying.” For most of us, there is a decent amount of time we can count on having. Making plans for the future is reasonable and wise. 

That said, there is tremendous value to ensuring that the life you are living today takes into consideration the fact that it will inevitably end. There is scientific evidence for this as well. A 2009 study conducted by psychologists Adam Grant and Kimberly Wade-Benzoni made the clear connection between people who are aware of their mortality and their ability to be more creative, productive, resilient and purposeful. The author of “Staring at the Sun,” Irvin Yalom, has found evidence that when people can contemplate and accept their death, they are opened up to living more authentic lives that align with their values. 

I will often use these concepts when I work with others. One of my favorite guided reflections is to invite my clients to picture themselves at 60, 70, or 80 plus.  From that vantage point, I guide them through a series of exploratory questions:

  • How do you want to leave this life? 

  • What contributions would you like to have made?

  • What experiences meant the most to you? 

  • Did you get to your bucket list?

  • What did you learn from adversity? 

  • Do you have any regrets?

  • Did you worry too much?

  • Would you have spent your time differently?

  • Where could you have been a bit kinder to yourself and others? 

After going through this experience everyone comes back to the present with a much clearer sense of direction. They find that taking a wide angle view of their lives takes pressure off the present situation. They report that most of the things that seem of paramount importance in this moment (a lost love, being fired from a job, etc) will later be viewed as something that made them stronger and gave them an opportunity to know themselves better. Once in a while, someone realizes they’ve been on a completely wrong path for where they ultimately want to end up. Most importantly, everyone gains deep insights on how they can design a better life for themselves now.

As the year draws to an end, it is a great time to go through this exercise for yourself. Find a quiet spot, grab a pen and paper and go through the questions. It will be fun to see what comes up for you. I’d love to hear what comes up for you.

The price of anything is the amount of life you exchange for it.
— Henry David Thoreau
Liz DadanianComment