Memento Mori: A Practice for the Living
This essay is part of a sub-series on Stoic Practices.
The whole series of essays I have written on Stoicism began with one text message from my pastor. It came after I sent him a quote I had come to cherish and a link to an article I had written around it, The Last Great Day.
The quote, from Greta Gerwig, was this:
“You don’t know when the last time of something happening is. You don’t know what the last great day you’ll spend with your best friend is. You’ll just know when you’ve never had that day again.”
Rev. Magrey deVega responded: “Beautiful, John. Yes, indeed, may we savor each day and relish each moment, for Memento Mori, as the Stoics remind us. And may that liberate us to live our truest and best selves, by the power of the Holy Spirit. Thank you for sharing this.”
I had never heard the phrase Memento Mori before. I certainly knew nothing about Stoicism. So, I began reading, and that exploration led to my first Stoicism essay, The Gift of Memento Mori. That piece became the starting point for what has now turned into this series.
This essay is not about retelling that origin story. It is about practicing Memento Mori as part of daily life. It is about why it matters, how to live it, and how it can shape the way we spend our limited days.
More than an idea
The Latin phrase Memento Mori means “remember that you will die.” At first hearing, it can sound startling and morbid. Some imagine it as sitting in a dark room, dwelling on death. But in Stoic philosophy, and in many faith traditions, it is not about gloom. It is about clarity.
Marcus Aurelius wrote often about the shortness of life. Seneca reminded his readers that life is long enough if we spend it well. For them, the awareness of mortality was a call to live with purpose and gratitude.
Massimo Pigliucci, in a Hidden Brain podcast, used an image I find helpful. Imagine you are driving in a national park and the gas gauge in your car is broken. You know you started with a full tank a few days ago, but you do not know how much is left. You will make more careful choices about where to go. You will not waste time on detours that do not matter. That is how life works. We do not know how much is left in the tank.
For Christians, the same truth is echoed on Ash Wednesday: “Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return.” Psalm 90 asks God to “teach us to number our days, that we may gain a heart of wisdom.” The Stoics and the Scriptures agree. Life is finite, and that is what gives it weight.
How it changes things
Since writing The Gift of Memento Mori, I have noticed a shift in my own choices. That essay led me to reconnect with old friends. Just yesterday, while visiting my mother in my hometown, I had lunch with a friend from my high school and college years. We had only reconnected earlier this year because of that first essay. I have made more regular efforts to reach out to “long-ago” friends.
“Some opportunities will not come again. Knowing that changes what you value.”
In another essay, The Silence Between Us, I reflected on how distance and silence can grow in even the most important friendships. Memento Mori makes those silences harder to ignore.
The science behind it
Psychologists have found that reflecting on mortality can have surprising effects. It can increase gratitude and generosity. It can strengthen the desire to act in line with your values. It can push you to set aside grudges that have lingered too long. In one set of studies, people prompted to think about the brevity of life were more likely to reach out to loved ones, to forgive, and to help strangers. These effects often happen without conscious effort; they grow naturally from the shift in perspective.
Part of the reason is that a reminder of mortality changes what feels important. When you remember your time is limited, the minor irritations lose their grip. That neighbor’s barking dog or the stranger who cuts you off in traffic matters less when you know your hours are numbered. The Stoics understood this long before modern psychology confirmed it. They practiced what they called self-distancing, or looking at your life from the outside, the way a trusted friend or mentor might see it. This simple shift helps you judge your actions more clearly and make better choices.
Mortality awareness can also sharpen your sense of purpose. Research shows that when people are reminded of life’s limits, they often turn toward goals that feel personally meaningful instead of chasing the next distraction. You might start prioritizing relationships, service, or creative work over chasing every possible task on your to-do list. The effect can be subtle, but over time it can lead to lasting changes in how you spend your days.
Finally, this kind of reflection can boost resilience. Knowing that life will contain loss and change allows you to meet those moments with a steadier mind. It is not about expecting the worst, but about being less surprised when challenges arrive. By accepting that hardship and mortality are part of the human story, you can respond with calm and clarity, just as the Stoics aimed to do.
Practicing Memento Mori
You do not need to spend all day thinking about death. You only need to remember it enough to shape how you live. Here are a few ways to bring this practice into daily life:
- A short daily reflection
This can be part of an evening review, asking yourself: If today had been my last, would I have spent it well? Did I say what needed to be said? Did I waste time on what does not matter?
- Use a tangible reminder
Some carry a coin or token engraved with Memento Mori. Others use a picture, a small object, or a phrase written on a card. The point is to keep the reality of time’s limit near at hand.
- Imagine “last times”
This ties directly to the Greta Gerwig quote. The next time you have coffee with a friend, take a quiet moment to realize it might be the last. That thought can deepen your presence and gratitude in the moment.
- Write your own eulogy
This is not as grim as it sounds. It is a way to ask, “What do I hope people will say about me?” and then live in a way that moves toward that hope.
- Reconnect intentionally
Make a short list of people you have lost touch with but still think of. Reach out now. Do not assume there will be a better time.
Why it matters
The Stoics believed that Memento Mori strips away illusions. You stop pretending there will always be more time. That awareness can make you more present with the people you love, more willing to speak truth, and more committed to living with integrity.
It can also make life lighter. If you accept that some things will not get done before you die, you can stop obsessing over them. You can focus instead on what is most worth doing.
For me, it has meant fewer grudges, more calls to friends, and a better sense of when to set work aside. It has reminded me that my “last great days” may already have happened, or they may still be ahead, but I will only recognize them if I am paying attention.
A gentle reminder
“You do not need to dwell on death. Just don’t forget that it’s coming.”
The practice begins simply. Pause once a day to remember that your days are numbered. Let that thought shape one small decision. Make the call. Write the note. Forgive the old hurt. Spend the time as if it matters, because it does.
One day, you will be right about not having another tomorrow. Between now and then, you get to decide how to live.
Sources
- Routledge, Clay, et al. “The existential function of nostalgia.” Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, vol. 101, no. 3, 2011, pp. 638–652.
- Cozzolino, Philip J., et al. “Mortality salience, self-esteem, and self-compassion.” Personality and Social Psychology Bulletin, vol. 30, no. 8, 2004, pp. 1052–1065.
- Kesebir, Pelin, and Ed Diener. “In pursuit of happiness: Empirical answers to philosophical questions.” Perspectives on Psychological Science, vol. 3, no. 2, 2008, pp. 117–125.
- Lambert, Nathaniel M., et al. “Gratitude and depressive symptoms: The role of positive reframing and positive emotion.” Cognition and Emotion, vol. 26, no. 4, 2012, pp. 615–633.
- Quoidbach, Jordi, et al. “Life’s too short to be grumpy: The relationship between time perception and happiness.” Emotion, vol. 15, no. 2, 2015, pp. 230–236.
