A reconciliation with [death]

Joan Westenberg’s Why I Set Up a Death Countdown on My Phone is well worth a read.

The effect is subtle, almost meditative; it doesn’t dominate my thoughts, but it does act as a quiet undercurrent, pulling me back to the reality that each day fucking matters.

The countdown timer has a way of breaking time down into a currency that feels real. It’s one thing to say you have decades left to live; it’s quite another to see that number shrink with each passing day.[…]

The countdown timer[…] doesn’t offer any illusions about defying mortality. It doesn’t promise more time; it simply gives me a gentle nudge to make the most of the time that remains. To actually put my phone the fuck down and pay attention to my partner. My kid. Hell, even my cats. To say fuck the calories and eat whatever I want to eat.[…]

Where the life extension movement grasps desperately to delay the inevitable, my timer is a reconciliation with it.

General American life expectency is 77.5 years according to the CDC, which means I’m projected to live until 22 February 2057.

Collige, virgo, rosas.