We had a death in the family this week. Two, actually. Both had massive strokes on the same day and both passed away on the same day. A very odd coincidence. Anyway, I was talking to the widow of one of them and, in an attempt to offer comfort, had mentioned that now is the time to relish the memories they had made together. He brightened up and went into a long list of all the cruises, trips, excursions, and sailing outings they’d done. They’d actually done a lot more than I’d realized. It was obvious how fondly he remembered all those things they’d done together. Ultimately, our life is defined by the experiences we had.

I just finished a book that drove this concept home. It’s called Die With Zero by Bill Perkins. In it, the author has some very unique ideas about money, resources, and what’s important in life. To quote the old saying, “nobody dies wishing they’d spent more time at the office“. He encourages you to use your money to maximize the experience points you accumulate throughout life. He gives an example of when he was just out of school, dirt poor and eating ramen for dinner every night.

His roommate quit his job and borrowed money so he could backpack through Europe for a few months. The author thought he was nuts for being so irresponsible. The roommate came back with fantastic stories of meeting girls, beautiful beaches, and pictures of gorgeous scenery. The roommate found a new job shortly after returning and had paid back the borrowed money before long. Years later the author had built up some savings and thought about the trip the old roommate had taken. He realized that at age 30, he’d never be able to experience or recreate a carefree trip like that. That was an experience reserved for youth, and he’d missed it because he was being responsible with his money. Meanwhile the roommate had an experience he’ll remember forever and suffered no long term financial impacts because of it.

As the name of the book implies, the point is to die with zero. If you’ve got money and savings still in the bank when you’re gone, you left experiences on the table that you could have had. As you lay on your deathbed, wouldn’t you rather have had one last cruise or a trip somewhere with your loved one than a few extra dollars in the bank?

While much of the book is geared towards younger people and helping them think about how to manage their resources long term, there were a few chapters that really hit home for me. He uses the concept of “time buckets” to help prioritize experiences. The things you do in your twenties and thirties can be wild and more risky. You have time to recover, both physically and monetarily. As you move into your forties and fifties you can still have “active” experiences – ski trips, climbing the thousands of stairs in tiny towns in Italy, hiking national parks, etc…

But reality is that by the time you hit your sixties and seventies, the experiences you can have – change. While we all hope we’re still physically fit, for most of us a week long ski trip to Taos is not realistic at 65. Driving and long plane flights are harder. Our experiences tend to be more sedate – cruises, museums, and sitting on the beach enjoying sunsets. If you make it to eighty… well, very few of us are still active. Median life expectancy in the US is 77. Experiences become pretty limited at that point. Most of what you have at that age are memories of the past.

Having someone pass away, combined with the concepts in the book, hit me hard. Based upon average life expectancy, I have twenty years left. That’s only 1,000 weeks. If I did an “experience” every four weeks, that means I’ll have 250 more experiences in my life. That’s sobering. And out of those remaining twenty years, how many do I have left where I can still be relatively active? I hope a lot, but there’s no guarantee.

Why don’t we come to that realization when we’re younger?

So no more farting around and waiting until next month, six months from now, or next year to have those experiences. The clock is ticking and I want those life experiences in the bank. I don’t want to be on my deathbed, with money still in the bank, wishing I’d taken that trip when I was still fit enough to do it.

You only have this life once and you don’t get to take your things with you. You die with nothing more than the memories of what you’ve done and the people around you.

Let’s go make the most out of those remaining weeks.