Let’s Talk About Death: Designing the Perfect Finale.

Death is the ultimate deadline - let's design an extraordinary finish.

Before we start; if you're reading this while mourning the recent loss of a loved one, may you find comfort and peace during this difficult time. My intention is not to add to your grieving process.

For most of us, we know our date of birth, but what about our date of death? More so, what about the time in between? We breathe in the day we’re born and in a microsecond have learned to breathe out. It’s the inseparable breath pair, in, out, in, out, in …… and to seal off the final, sacred breath pair, we exhale for the very last time. 

AI generated image; the prompt used is “A funeral party where the guests are celebrating with the deceased. It's a fun and lively futuristic setting with symbols of life floating around.”

Avoiding death.

Some have a quixotic obsession with immortality; they’re biohacking, nipping, tucking and puffing their way to a perceived eternity, bathing in that elusive fountain of youth. Some have a preferred age of death in mind, be it a listless wish or the acceptance of the inevitable, naively inferring a degree of preference and control. For many, death is the last taboo, a topic that we dare not contemplate nor discuss, lest we prematurely grab the attention of the Grim Reaper himself. On that note, has anyone confirmed if the Grim Reaper is indeed male? I’d like to see his/her/their birth certificate when they inevitably make their unscheduled visit, but I suppose I won’t live to write or post about the gender reveal. 

150,000 deaths per day. That’s one busy Grim Reaper; like God, Satan and Santa, that level of omnipresence can only be achieved with licensing and franchising. 

Not today, Santa. 

There’s the inconvenient nature of death. I’m neither prepared for death, nor am I resistant to it. It’s because I’m too busy to die and, frankly, dying is fucking expensive. With a mortgage and a penchant for coffee, exceptional pastries, dumplings and fine whiskey, I have a lot of prep work ahead. 

Fear not.

I think a lot about death. It’s neither a morbid fixation, nor is it a feeling of thanatophobia. I must admit, there’s an occasional romantic screenplay as I imagine my parting ceremony; I call it a parting ceremony as I won’t be doing a standard funeral. I sometimes fantasise about the event, wondering who’d be there and how it would feel. Yet I know that that’s quite silly as I (don’t think) I’d be there to share the emotional load with the attendees, let alone direct the event in line with my preferences and expectations. The truth is that most of my thoughts about my death are a type of transcendental preoccupation with what may happen next. 

Between now and death. 

Death is interesting. What’s more interesting is how we live our lives in busyness and consumption, believing that we’ll evade death, yet we avoid facing our true selves and navigating our lives from passion, love, meaning, purpose, exploration and wonder for fear of dying — or worse —being ostracised for living a life worth living. 

What age are you? When are you going to die? When are you going to live — really live? When am I going to acknowledge that there’s my view of the world and the world’s view of me, and go about doing what brings love, joy, passion and compassion anyways. As soon as we all recognise that we’re not our age, but we’re the years we have left, I wonder what happens? 

There’s a calendar for that.

It’s as sobering as it is empowering. It’s design encourages you to colour boxes of weeks already passed. Sobriety kicks in when I see that even if I live a life as long as my grandparents and that which my parents are currently experiencing, I’m a tad over half way. On the other hand, there’s a freedom in visualising the weeks I have remaining and what my choices are from there. 

We have one guaranteed life, and you’re in it, like it or not. Presuming we live to a typically average age of around 80 years, what will you do between now and the inevitable? How will you show up? Who do you choose to be? Whose life will you live? When will you strip back all layers of identity and delve so deep into your core, that you recognise how wonderful and how powerful you really are? 

If you’re interested in getting a copy of this awesome “My Life in Weeks” calendar, just comment below.

The Party.

What will I do? Who will I call? Will there be a guest list at the send off? A DJ? Should I be afforded the luxury of time, will I finish that book? Fulfil my fiscal obligations? Water the plants? Can I book a celebrant to preside over the send off? Scheduling her will be a challenge, and one that I don’t care to negotiate at this stage. 

Planning & the Death Doula

As we contemplate our inevitable demise, many are now calling on "death doulas" to help choreograph a meaningful final chapter. Just as birth doulas support mothers through labour and childbirth, death doulas guide us through the last transition. They help us define what a "good death" means for us personally.

When booking my death doula, I'll ask about their experience ushering souls into the great beyond. Do they have a proven track record for throwing a killer send-off bash? Can they recommend a playlist that will have me dancing with the Grim Reaper him/herself?

Ideally, my doula will encourage me to get clear on my hopes, wishes and fears around dying. Do I want the party while I’m alive, or go  straight to cremation? Scatter my ashes in exotic locales or let family fight over them on the mantel? Cash bar or top-shelf open bar at my memorial service? I think I’d like to attend my send off, so that’s answered. Pastries and Japanese single malt whiskey for all. Or perhaps we can do an ayahuasca or psilocybin ceremony as a send off?

Hologram in a bottle.

Do you have a story to tell? How will you tell it? Perhaps you want to leave a will in an unconventional way? The entertainment industry has toyed with the idea of hologramic messages from the long gone, and we’re closer to being able to record a story than we think.

Imagine a hologram of yourself popping up to greet guests at your wake. "Thanks for coming to celebrate my death day, friends! Let's get this memorial popping!" An AI DJ takes requests and pumps out your favorite jams while mini-drones deliver drinks and pass around party favors.

For a truly immersive experience, guests don VR headsets and join your digital consciousness in a virtual reality world for one last epic adventure together. Why settle for stale eulogies when you can hijack the dearly departed's social media to post real-time commentary from beyond?

Take the hassle out of estate planning by storing your will, passwords and crazy treasure hunt instructions in a blockchain-enabled crypto-coffin. Share your life lessons with future generations by uploading your memories to an AI companion programmed to share your wisdom.

Personally, I’d like to drop a hologram in a bottle and see where it lands, perhaps even have the combination code to the immense treasures I’ve buried deep in the Amazon.  

Cocoons, not coffins.

I don’t like coffins; they’re wasteful, expensive, tacky and passé. If someone wants to do the coffin thing for me, please consider something like a living cocoon that will return all of what’s left back to nature. Please put a whole stack of indigenous seeds in the cocoon, as I’d like to become trees. Or perhaps someone can invent one made of fish food and drop me into the Coral Sea where I become part of the food chain. I do love the ocean.

The After-After Party

So the death doula has planned my epic send-off bash, but what comes next? Eternal nothingness? Floating on clouds while strumming a harp? Reincarnation as a dung beetle?

The truth is, no one really knows what happens when we shuffle off this mortal coil. And does it really matter? Obsessing over the mysteries of afterlife real estate distracts from fully enjoying this life we have now.

Whether you believe in God, Gods, Goddesses, the Universe, or just really smart unicorns, we all have limited time in these earth-suits. So why not live this life with passion, purpose and presence? Make your days on earth count.

Leave behind more smiles than tears. Radiate love. Seek understanding over judgement. Breathe in each moment, not drowned by regrets or anxiety about what's next.

The afterlife will take care of itself. Our job is to live fully, love deeply and leave a legacy of meaning. For now, design your life intentionally. Discover your gifts, share them generously.

Keep growing, exploring, learning. Make time for stillness, joy and wonder too.

However many sand grains remain in your hourglass, live like they matter. Stay present to the privilege of being alive.

And trust that the party in the great beyond will be even better than the bash your death doula plans. In the meantime, live and love boldly, like your life depends on it.

How might we design a product that adds fun, engagement and dignity to our finale We’re going to explore this as part of our community challenges at Faster Zebra.

This is your time, design it your way.