Life often urges us to pause in unexpected places.
Here I am on a Friday afternoon—a time I know isn’t ideal for LinkedIn posts, and with the Dodgers game starting soon and much of my community probably preoccupied, eagerly awaiting Ohtani’s World Series debut… (Beat the Yankees… I BEG YOU…)
So, if you find yourself reading this now, thank you. (Ha!)
This week, a few moments reminded me just how fragile life can be. I attended the funeral of a friend of a friend who passed too soon—cancer has a way of reminding us just how unfair life can be. I also had a close relative suffer a heart attack.
These events weren’t in my plans, yet they stirred a need for reflection: Am I truly satisfied with how my life is going?
My dear friend and study partner, Michael Thomas, once shared a concept with me that he called the “ceremony of completion.” Unlike the endings we often dread—whether relationships, projects, or phases of life—this “ceremony” invites us to reflect regularly and ask, “Am I satisfied with my life?”
It helps me clarify my goals and the choices that lead to those aims.
Every Saturday morning, while watching the Premier League (Come on, Fulham!), I review my aims for the week in every Condition of Life. (The inescapable and unavoidable conditions, situations or circumstances that adults must tend to in order to live a happy life – as defined by Influential U.) This practice has helped me stay grounded, but after today’s memorial, I feel drawn to add a new practice.
While talking with my friend Tim JoyceI had a strange thought and shared it with him: “I don’t visit cemeteries enough.”He gave me a look, and I get it; it’s an odd thing to say…
When I got home from the ceremony, I wondered how people throughout history have considered this often unspoken part of our world and what they did with burial sites. I found through a quick Google search that ancient burial practices were rooted in intentional, sacred spaces. In early Western civilization, for example, burials took place outside city limits, along roads leading into cities, in caves, or even in the water. These practices honored life’s cycles and the need to pause, reflect, and remember.
As Dia De Los Muertos approaches, I’m thinking more about how we remember those we love—and even those we never met. Some pastors and priests maintain a ritual of visiting gravesites as a way to focus on what matters most. I meditate daily, often near the ocean, but there’s something grounding about visiting a place of rest and reflecting on the lives that came before us. (Great… now I have “Remember Me” from Coco stuck in my head… Ugh… and now I’m crying… https://www.youtube.com/watch?app=desktop&v=KP_XkN2v7OM for those of you who need a good cry and break from this post…)
Steve Jobs once said:
“Remembering that I’ll be dead soon is the most important tool I’ve encountered for making life’s big choices. Almost everything—all expectations, pride, fear of embarrassment or failure—falls away in the face of death, leaving only what is truly important. Remembering that you are going to die is the best way I know to avoid the trap of thinking you have something to lose.”
What if I took a walk through a cemetery once a month or even once a quarter? Would that practice bring more meaning to my daily life?
We often go through life assuming we have endless time—time to tell loved ones we care, to pursue dreams waiting in the wings. Moments like these break that illusion of control, reminding us of life’s unpredictability.
The “illusion of control” is a cognitive bias where we overestimate our ability to control events. I think many of us fall into this trap. Perhaps adopting a “ceremony of completion” could help me ground myself regularly, bringing a more human dimension to my days.
This isn’t about fixating on death; it’s about remembering to live.
Are my choices aligning with my values? Are the things I want truly the things I want?
If I’m starting a company called “Ambitious Adulting 101,” am I embodying what it means to be an “ambitious adult”?
My aim is to live not just out of routine, but with intentionality.
Do you have a ceremony of completion? Whether it’s visiting a gravesite, lighting a candle, journaling, or taking a quiet moment, these small acts invite us to pause—to breathe deeply, think clearly, and remember why we’re here.
Life is fragile, and by honoring this fact, I believe we bring a deeper clarity and commitment to each day.
I hope you’ll take a moment to reflect on something that inspires you to live with purpose and make choices that bring intention and meaning to your life.