The ancient Greeks had a strange little habit. They practiced death.
Socrates believed that philosophy was, in some way, a preparation for death. A practice of loosening our grip on the small things that consume us. The petty worries. The bruised pride. The endless wanting. The arguments we replay in our heads long after the other person has moved on with their day, or even with their life.
Remembering death was not meant to make life darker. It was meant to make life more urgent. Because most of us live as if we have endless time. Endless chances to say what needs to be said. Endless summers. Endless Sundays. Endless mornings to begin again.
Then we spend so much of that supposedly endless time worrying about appearances, misunderstandings, someone else’s opinion, someone else’s lack of common sense, not to mention AI.
We get caught in the daily theatre of things. Personal things. Work things. Future things. The little absurdities of modern life somehow manage to take over the entire stage. We forget that one day, none of this will matter in the way we think it matters today.
That sounds harsh. But it can also be freeing.
In South Korea, some people attend their own mock funerals. They write final letters, take funeral portraits, dress in burial clothes, and lie in a coffin for a few minutes. A symbolic ending, while still very much alive.
Imagine that. Lying there in silence, with nothing to manage, nothing to prove, no one to convince.
Would you think about the argument from Tuesday? Would you think about the person who did not reply to your message? Would you think about the call you never made, the apology you kept delaying, or the words you never had the courage to say?
I don’t think we need to lie in a coffin to find answers.
Still, I could be tempted to turn this into my next performance piece. Buy a coffin and lie in it somewhere in the middle of a public space. Make my mark with a statement about something that becomes something else. Something else than just a simple reminder that our time is limited.
Because practicing death is not about the end. Practicing death is not about death. It’s about returning to life with more honesty. It’s about noticing what still needs to be lived before we run out of time.
It’s about letting one petty concern after another fall off our shoulders. Because we do not have forever.
And somehow, that makes today more alive.