A couple of weeks ago I attended back-to-school night for the last time. I left the office in a rush, with unsigned charts and unfinished tasks waiting for me, something I rarely do. Normally, I don’t leave without tying up every loose end. But my son is in his final year of high school, and I wasn’t about to miss the opportunity to walk through his school one last time. Since this was my last opportunity for back-to-school night, it’s easy to see I made the right choice. To let go of work and to focus on the evening. But in years past I missed the evening in exchange for my “responsibilities”. And over the years I am certain there were times I was physically present at back-to-school night and was distracted with texts or simply my thoughts. But this last time I was definitive in my choice to be there. I was fully present and engaged. I loved it.
So much of our time is spent distractedly rushing around. Racing through one task to the next while thinking about something else. This leaves us feeling disconnected and unfulfilled. When we intentionally choose what to prioritize staying fully present and engaged in that choice, we live a deeper more connected life. But how? One way I’ve learned to navigate this is by asking myself, "What if this is the last time?"
This is not a new idea, the Latin phrase “Memento Mori” means “remember you must die. This concept is deeply embedded in Stoic philosophy and urges people to regularly reflect on their mortality. The intent is not to evoke sadness or fear but to remind us that life is short and precious. Stoics meditate on death to live more fully.
If you’re having trouble appreciating things, this practice can help shift you into gratitude. It doesn’t just help me decide when to leave work to focus on my family, it helps me appreciate my patient encounters and the hectic routine day at my pediatrics practice. Knowing that one day I will examine my last toddler, see my last newborn, and review my last set of lab work, allows me to feel a sense of gratitude for the craziness that is my day.
When we treat each experience, whether it’s a family dinner, a hug, or even a routine conversation, as something that could be the last, we create space for positive emotions. We start prioritizing what truly matters, not just because time is fleeting, but because those small, everyday moments are the building blocks of a meaningful life.
In the end, it’s about being intentional with our time, cherishing the mundane, and living with the awareness that anything could be the last time. When we do this, the ordinary becomes extraordinary.
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