What Death and Transitions Teach Us About Living Well

Photo by Patrick Hendry on Unsplash

Not every end is a goal. The end of a melody is not its goal. But nonetheless, had the melody not reached its end it would not have reached its goal either.

~Nietzsche, Human, All Too Human

A few weeks back, my thoughts circled around endings, transitions, and death. It feels like a heavy topic — perhaps even morbid — and the sense that I “shouldn’t” write about it only strengthened my resolve to do so.

Last year, I went on a trek that turned out to be far harder than planned because of fresh snow. We found ourselves navigating a narrow ledge on a steep hill, made even more treacherous by the slippery conditions. One thought kept looping in my mind: I don’t want to slip. To calm myself, I turned to a practice I often use — facing my worst fears to feel less afraid. In that moment, I thought to myself: If I fall, I’d rather die than live without a hand or a leg.

That thought stayed with me as we reached the campsite. Talking to others, I realized not everyone shared my level of comfort with the idea of death. For me, there was a strange freedom in accepting the reality of my own mortality. If I was okay with dying, life felt so much lighter. Yet, when I thought about losing loved ones, I found myself in the camp of those who are deeply uncomfortable with death.

In the last few weeks, two things merged and intertwined in my mind:

• The passing of an acquaintance

• Reading the book Transitions

These left me reflecting on two recurring themes:

1. The way we see others shifts in the face of death.

While the acquaintance was alive, it was easy to focus on the traits I disliked or wished they would change. But after their passing, those thoughts melted away. Instead, I found myself grateful for what they brought into my life. It feels almost wrong to think ill of someone who’s no longer here — when it serves no purpose and harms no one. And yet, we often have no hesitation doing this with the people who are still alive and around us.

This realization led me to a simple practice:
If you’re feeling irritated by someone and struggling to appreciate them, imagine what you might say in their eulogy. It won’t erase the irritation, but it may soften the harshness and bring some gratitude into focus.

2. Endings are inevitable — and valuable.

The book Transitions describes change as a natural part of life, with each transition involving an ending, a period of uncertainty, and a new beginning. These phases often overlap and can stretch over years. Yet, when we anticipate a new beginning, we sometimes fail to acknowledge what’s ending.

For example, parenthood is often a joyous new chapter for a couple. But it also marks the end of a life shared just between the two of them — a life with more freedom and spontaneity. The joy doesn’t erase the loss, and that’s okay.

Words like “loss” and “endings” may feel heavy, even negative, but they don’t have to be. After all, something that lasts forever can lose its value over time. Every ending — whether it’s a person, a friendship, a marriage, a job, or a home — carries a form of grief. But if we let go of the idea that “success” or “happiness” is tied to permanence, we can see things differently. A friendship that brought joy while it lasted can still be considered “successful,” even if it ended.

Sometimes, resisting an ending only prolongs the pain.

There’s no specific takeaway in this post— just a humble sharing of my current state of mind. I’m curious: did anything come up for you as you read this?

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