The 60-Second Daily Mortality Check-In
A forest standoff, a missed funeral, and the one-minute habit that melts stress and may add years to your life.
Death knocked twice last week.
Last week, my aunt Tia Lola died from tuberculosis. Yes, TB is back.
I was deep in Alaska when it happened. No signal.
First off grid vacation I had allowed myself in four years.
Life is ironic.
Timeline
Saturday: she passed.
Thursday: funeral.
Weekend: I finally got the news.
Our last hug was in January.
She had took the train in from Jupiter city, cooked for my birthday, and spent a whole day helping me make treats for my company, Nourish’s launch party. I rushed our goodbye because I was too busy with work.
Grief (and guilt) felt heavy when I found out of her passing while in a tiny cafe in Alaska. Thanks to the unresistable urge for me to use the weak wifi to connect with the world.
Overwhelmed, I decided to go for a hike.
The park ranger had warned us a mama bear and her cub were in the area.
We usually carried bear spray, but today we did not. It was a highly popular hiking spot, so we did not worry.
Halfway across the trail my husband spotted a creek and stopped to take a photo.
I did not notice and continued walking.
I heard a deep growl above me, and I looked up, annoyed that a hiker could not keep his/her dog under control.
Instead, I saw a mother bear with her cub looking directly at me, about 10ft away.
She started moving her legs back and forth, continuing to growl. I was paralyzed.
In those 3 seconds, I honestly thought I was going to die.
I was immediately annoyed at myself for having worked too much and not spent enough time with my loved ones.
Fortunately, the mother bear and her cub ran past me and dissapeared into the bushes.
Two brushes with mortality in one week.
The relief of being alive felt palpable.
Suddenly coffee tasted richer. The sun shone brighter.
Every “urgent” email shrank to nothing. All the little annoyances of life did not seem to matter.
How could I keep this perspective on life forever?
The 60-Second Mortality Check-In
Michael Easter, in The Comfort Crisis (a book I reread every year, I cannot recommend it enough), notes that Japanese people keep death in plain sight.
Japanese traditions, mizuko kuyo, memento mori, even the everyday awareness of natural disasters, keep death visible.
These rituals nudge people to move more, stress less, and love louder.
The result?
Ironically, being closer to death brings longer, healthier lives.
The theory: when impermanence is top of mind, you move more, stress less, and invest in relationships now, not “someday.”
So I’m testing a bite-size ritual: a 60-second morning mortality check-in.
Close eyes.
Picture the bear.
Picture my aunt’s empty chair at future holidays and how she would want me to enjoy life since I am still alive.
Ask: If today were my last, how would I treat my body, my work, my people?
So far it’s better than any productivity hack I’ve tried.
If you’ve brushed against death, or just need perspective, try it tomorrow and let me know how it feels.
Could a daily dose of mortality be the secret ingredient in longevity?