What if you only had 7 days left?

Hey there,

I want you to do something uncomfortable for a minute.

Close your eyes and imagine this: a doctor just told you that you have one week left to live.

Seven days. That's it.

No cure. No miracle. No second chances.

What would you do with that week?

Would you spend it scrolling Instagram?

Sitting in meetings you don't care about?

Arguing about things that don't matter?

Worrying what people think of you?

Or would everything suddenly become crystal clear?

The Stoics had a practice for this. They called it "memento mori"—remember you will die.

Not to be morbid. Not to be depressing.

But to wake up. To see clearly. To live fully while you still can.

Because here's the truth most people avoid: you are dying. We all are. We just don't know when.

And pretending otherwise is the reason most people waste their lives.

The Day Everything Changed

I read something in Michael Singer's book "The Untethered Soul" that stopped me cold.

He said: "Death is always there. It defines life. It gives life meaning."

At first, I pushed back against that. It felt dark. Heavy.

Why would I want to think about death?

But then I realized: I was already living like I was going to die.

I just wasn't living like it mattered.

I was going through motions. Following scripts other people wrote. Putting off things that mattered because "someday" felt safe.

Then my sister got sick.

And suddenly, "someday" became a lie I'd been telling myself. Time wasn't unlimited. Life wasn't guaranteed.

That's when memento mori stopped being a philosophy and became my daily practice.

Every morning, I ask myself: "If this was my last week, would I spend it like this?"

And if the answer is no, I change what I'm doing.

What Changes When You Remember You're Dying

Here's what happens when you actually live like your time is limited.

The small stuff stops mattering. That argument you were about to have? Suddenly pointless.

That grudge you've been holding? Gone.

That person's opinion you were obsessing over? Who cares?

When you know you're dying, you stop wasting energy on things that don't matter.

The big stuff becomes obvious. The people you love. The work that fulfills you.

The experiences you've been putting off.

The version of yourself you've been too scared to become.

Suddenly, there's no time to waste on anything else.

You become fearless. Not because you're not afraid, but because you realize the real fear is wasting your life playing it safe.

What's the worst that could happen if you try something and fail? You'll die having tried.

What's the worst that could happen if you don't try? You'll die having never lived.

That's not a hard choice when you're honest about it.

The One-Week Challenge

Here's what I want you to do.

For the next seven days, live like they're your last.

Not in some reckless, burn-it-all-down way. But in a way where every choice matters.

Every moment counts. Every person deserves your full presence.

Here's how to actually do it:

Day 1: Cut What Doesn't Matter

Write down everything you're currently spending time on. Your job, your hobbies, your obligations, your habits.

Now ask: "If I had one week left, would I keep doing this?"

If the answer is no, start figuring out how to remove it from your life. Not someday. Now.

Day 2: Tell People What They Mean to You

If you had one week, you'd tell the people you love how much they matter. You wouldn't wait for the "right time."

Today, message three people who matter to you. Tell them specifically why. Don't be vague. Be real.

"You made me feel less alone when..." or "I respect you because..." or "Thank you for..."

Most people never hear this until funerals. Don't wait that long.

Day 3: Do One Thing You've Been Putting Off

There's something you've been wanting to do but haven't because you're scared or you think you have time.

You don't have time. None of us do.

Today, take one step toward that thing. Not a plan. Not preparation. Actual action.

Book the trip. Send the message. Start the project. Have the conversation. Apply for the thing.

Day 4: Eliminate the Fake Urgency

Most of what feels urgent isn't. It's just noise designed to steal your attention.

Today, ignore every notification. Don't check email until noon. Let calls go to voicemail unless they're from people you love.

Notice how little actually mattered. Notice how much time you get back.

Day 5: Be Fully Present

When you're with someone today, be actually with them. Not on your phone. Not thinking about work. Not planning your next thing.

Look them in the eye. Listen like their words matter. Be there.

This is what people remember. Not the things you bought them or the places you went. But the moments you were fully present.

Day 6: Create Something That Lasts

If you had one week, you'd want to leave something behind. Something that says "I was here. I mattered."

Today, create something. Write something. Build something. Share something that expresses who you actually are.

Not perfect. Not for likes. Just real.

Day 7: Reflect and Decide

At the end of this week, ask yourself: "If every week of my life felt like this, would I have regrets?"

If the answer is no, then you just found the blueprint for a life fully lived.

Now the only question is: will you keep living this way, or will you go back to pretending you have unlimited time?

Why This Works

The ancient Stoics weren't being morbid when they practiced memento mori.

They understood something most people miss: death isn't the enemy of life. Denial of death is.

When you pretend you have forever, you waste today. When you remember time is limited, you live.

Marcus Aurelius, one of the most powerful men in history, wrote this to himself every morning: "You could leave life right now. Let that determine what you do and say and think."

Not to be afraid. But to be awake.

Every person I know who lives without regrets has one thing in common: they live like their time matters because they know it's limited.

They don't put off the trip. They don't wait to tell people they love them. They don't spend years in jobs they hate because it's "practical."

They live now. Because now is all any of us have.

What Your Life Could Look Like

Imagine this.

What if you lived every week for the rest of your life like it was your last?

Not recklessly. But intentionally.

You'd spend time with people who matter. You'd work on things that fulfill you. You'd say what needs to be said. You'd take the risks worth taking.

You'd stop wasting energy on things that don't matter and pour it into things that do.

You'd be present. Fearless. Fully alive.

And at the end of your actual last week—whenever that comes—you wouldn't have regrets.

You wouldn't think "I wish I had..."

You'd think "I'm glad I did."

That's what memento mori gives you. Not fear of death, but freedom to live.

The question is: are you going to wait until you actually have one week left to start living this way?

Or are you going to start today?

TAKEAWAYS:

• Memento mori means "remember you will die"—not to scare you, but to wake you up

• Most people waste their lives because they pretend time is unlimited

• Living like you're dying makes the small stuff irrelevant and the big stuff obvious

• Cut what doesn't matter, tell people what they mean, do what you've been putting off

• Be fully present, create something real, and reflect on whether you'd have regrets

• Death isn't the enemy—denial of death is what causes regret

• If you lived every week like your last, you'd never waste another day

P.S. If you've been thinking about building your own brand but waiting for the "right time," November’s slipping away. I put everything I learned into Cinematic Studio for the people ready to stop waiting. But honestly? Even without it, just start. The best time to plant a tree was 20 years ago. The second best time is today.

Just one life,

Elevenstoic