Lately, I've been thinking about death, not in a depressing way, but more as a way to reflect.

For the longest time I feared it, and when I was a teenager and a bit into my 20s it kept me up at night. What if my loved ones die, what if I die?, those kinds of questions, and I used to get vivid images at night about it.

I can't say I don't have my moments sometimes, but I'm more willing to accept it as the years pass. It is what it is.

There are many ways to look at it. Epicurus wrote:

And Montaigne said:

Am I living a good life, a meaningful life, am I making something out of it, would Alejandro on his deathbed say that it was a life worth living?

Maybe what kept me awake was not death itself, but the thought that I was wasting my life. Wasting it by not being true to myself, not pursuing what I wanted, not communicating or acting the way I felt.

In the end, it's about living. It's about the human connection, the small moments that happen between us, or in solitude. The joy of learning, sharing, helping, making things better. Or just the joy of the moment.

A cup of coffee can make you happier than the latest phone. A walk in nature can be more pleasurable and fulfilling than a like on social media, a truthful conversation or just a simple hug can be just what you need.

When I put my career in perspective, and specially the act of working, it might look silly. Why am I working anyway?

When I've had the massive privilege of not working for a relatively long stretch, things looked different. I had all the time in the world, I chose to do what I wanted with that time, even if it was just doing nothing of importance that day, but it was my “nothing”.

Of course, not working without some kind of financial freedom doesn't last long. But it does make you wonder, why am I working, beyond just paying the bills? Ideally, for me, there should be something that makes it worthwhile.

Nothing wrong with working to pay the bills. The way this works, that's the ultimate and atomic reason. If you find purpose in it, or you can grow and get better, that's a nice bonus for many people in the world.

Every so often I wonder if studying this or that is worth it, if the career ladder is worth it. Regardless of titles or companies, to me, what counts is the experience that I'm having. Nowadays, unless I need to take the money, I think about what I'm going to experience in a job. Is it an experience that's going to enrich me, am I going to be able to go beyond the “boundaries”?

Seeking growth and experiences means that I find the typical company dull, and I simply don't have as much patience for bullshit as before, specially if there's nothing I can realistically do to change it.

I wonder if I could find a way to work in a meaningful way, and find, or hopefully encourage, the environments I want to work in. Probably the answer is to try to do my own thing, but that's another topic.

When I'm in my deathbed, am I going to say “how happy I am to have worked creating API endpoints”, or “those stressful extra hours sure were the peak, I wish I would've done more of those”? Probably not. But I wouldn't mind looking back and thinking that I did impactful and meaningful things alongside great people, in a supported environment, that we had agency, continuously grew, learnt, collaborated, helped each other. That we tried our best even if we failed.

Recently, I read in Mastodon a thread by Kelly Shortdrige that was quite impactful:

I’ve had a similar thought at some point about what would happen if I’m not here any more and somebody needs access to my bank account, social media, etc. to sort things out. Being mindful about security, I have a password manager, use massively long passwords, and have 2FA enabled on many website…but my “badass” thread model would only worsen the grief, as Kelly puts it. I think about living, but it’s also important to think about dying and what that means for the people around you. It can be a difficult thought, you’re confronting your mortality for real, and taking action, but critical nonetheless.

I suspect that, in my deathbed, I might not think about work at all, only about moments, the anecdotes, the battles, the things worth remembering. Were they worth it, did I do good, did I enjoy the time with my loved ones, was it a life worth living, did I connect with people?

While I don't wish it to end, as there are infinite things to experience and learn, at least I'd like to feel somewhat satisfied.

Interesting links

• Welcome To Hell, OpenAI - Colin Frase

• An AI Future Is Much Shakier Than You Think

• Why Agile doesn't work