One of the late Stephen Covey’s famous “7 Habits of Highly Successful People” was “Start with the end in mind.” He suggested that one should consider what he would like to have said about him at his funeral, and then take steps every day to be an authentic representative of those imagined statements. For example, if one wants to be known as having been a good father, then each day, he can be about the work of being a good father as a simple matter of diligent habit.
I find this to be a great exercise, and the sky is the limit as to what one might imagine to be by the end of his time on this mortal coil. One could find inspiration in any of a number of notions about what his life could accomplish. This exercise doesn’t necessarily need to be a stand-alone exercise in imagination, however; it is also helpful to consider what others have made of themselves, with a view toward whether it seems a worthy goal for our own emulation.
Perhaps there is no easier place to do this than at a cemetery. As I strolled through a peaceful and beautiful cemetery this evening, I saw tombstones with all manner of identifications of the deceased. Here are some examples:
- “Mother”
- “Father”
- “Our dear brother” (or sister)
- Religious insignia (crosses, Stars of David, etc.)
- Fraternal organization insignia (Masonic, Eastern Star, etc.)
- Image of tractor-trailer
- Image of hammer and handsaw
- “Taught by you. Now in your presence.”
- Military rank, branch, and unit.
- And many headstones, of course, had nothing but the name and the dates of birth and death.
Now, this is by no means a scientific study as it is practically impossible to tell from a headstone just what were the most important qualities of the deceased. This is, therefore, a mere “thought experiment”—an exercise in thinking for the purpose of testing ideas.
In these past months, I’ve become particularly fond of this thought:
“Life is short; why not do something extraordinary while we are here?”
In the cemetery, therefore, it is a fruitful study to walk about and to wonder just what each of the deceased might or might not have made of his life. And in particular, it is quite interesting to imagine whether any of the deceased might have a different perspective in an afterlife than they may have had near the end of life on earth. I wonder if the things about which they were concerned in life would be important to them in retrospect:
- Would a former carpenter regret that he had nothing more important to share on his headstone than an image of hand tools?
- Would a former soldier see his military service as valiantly as he may have seen it before death?
- Would a woman with nothing but a name and a date on her headstone wish that she had done something that her survivors would have thought worthy of publishing?
We are without any way to know, of course. And there’s the obvious likelihood that not all deceased people in an afterlife would share a common view of the world in which they once walked. But it does cause one to wonder. And more importantly, it gives one opportunity to decide for himself….to dream for himself.
As I reflect on the headstones I saw, I’m comforted that none of them said anything like:
- “Worked at Kmart”
- “Sold narcotics to kids”
- “Bum and freeloader”
- “Boring guy with absolutely no ambition”
- “Texted a lot”
When I look about at the living around me today, however, I can directly observe that there are lots of people like these—people who are “just another student” or “just a clerk” or “just a farmer”. If I remember correctly from my German classes, the word “Mensch” is the one used for “just a person”, connoting nothing special or noteworthy at all. So perhaps, a great phrase for what I’m getting at here is “just a mensch“.
What lower ambition could a person have than to be “just a mensch”? And what less inspiring vision for life could one have than this?
I find a certain irony in the fact that the thing that separates humankind from the other animals is the feature we seem to use the least: the higher mind—our consciousness and our ability for awareness and reflective, moral, and rational thought. It’s true that many strive in life, but not many strive for high-hanging fruit. Instead, they strive for treasures that, in the grand order of things, may simply not prove to be very important at all.
Now I don’t mean to suggest here that only those who were heads of state lived worthy lives, nor that only the astronauts or the heroes who gave their lives saving another are worthy of honor. Not everyone need be an Einstein or a Mozart to live a worthy life. And besides, I don’t consider myself to be a rightful judge for how another chooses to live his life. It is, after all, not really my business.
But I do observe the relative lack of meaningful ambition that seems to permeate far too great a percentage of our society and I wonder if our race could not be so much greater with just a pinch more healthy ambition for things that each of us has already within his reach. I’m talking about things like:
- Honesty
- Rational thinking
- Self correction
- Justice
- Fairness
- Kindness
- Sacrifice for the good of others
- Collaboration
- Wisdom
- Knowledge
None of these things require wealth, status, a high IQ, or an exceptional body. None of them even require that we have someone else attain them for us. No, while it’s great to have a teacher from which to gain a head start, any person of average or better intelligence can acquire such things for him- or herself. All that is necessary is the desire to make it so. Yet so few seem to make deliberate goals of such things as a way of life. And what a shame that is.
There will always be a need for carpenters, mothers, , fathers, soldiers, truckers, etc. And there will always be people to fill those positions. But we have a severe shortage of people aspiring also to the characteristics on my list above, and I must say that I have never once seen an epitaph that said “Here lies a wise man” or “She was a beacon of kindness” or “He strove to correct every flaw he ever found in himself.”
These are the kinds of things I wish more people had in mind as fundamental paradigms around which to build their lives. Ours doesn’t seem a particular elegant race, and yet it could be.
As I walked through the cemetery, I found myself hoping that some of the deceased there had been exactly these sorts of people, and simply didn’t have as much written on their headstones. But of course, I have no way of knowing. And that brings me to the real value of such a cognitive exercise: setting my own ambitions.
I am free to become as great a man as I can imagine how to be—as honest, as wise, as kind and courageous. No one else can force it to be so, nor can anyone but me prevent it. I am wholly free to make of myself what I will. And if at the end of my years, I have not succeeded in becoming an authentic example of any of these traits, it will be for no other reason than my own choosing otherwise.
However light or severe may prove to be the burden of it, I would find it at least a shameful waste should I ever look back upon my life to realize what it might have been if only I had striven for higher character. Whether we shall ever have such a vantage point from which to look back will always be debated, but who can deny that the reflective mind of man has the power to look forward in such matters and to recognize the value that can be attained?
