When We Die Talks

Saturday Contemplation - The Clock We Can’t See

Zach Ancell

This week’s Saturday Contemplation turns toward a truth most of us struggle to look at: our time is limited, whether we see it clearly or not. Some people learn this through illness or loss. For the rest of us, the illusion of “later” makes it easy to forget.

Instead of treating that reality as something bleak, this contemplation explores how it can clarify what matters. What becomes precious when we acknowledge we won’t live forever and what quietly falls away when we stop pretending we have endless time?

The first contemplation of every month is free for everyone. All others are available exclusively to WWDT+ members — a weekly practice designed to help you slow down, reflect on your mortality, and reconnect with what gives your life meaning.

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About When We Die Talks: When We Die Talks is a podcast built around anonymous conversations about death, loss, and how contemplating mortality shapes the way we live. If you’re new here, start with the Episode Guide. It’s designed to help you find conversations that match where you’re at—curiosity, grief, hesitation, or openness.

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Want to share your thoughts? Leave a voicemail at 971-328-0864 and share what you believe happens when we die. Messages may be featured in a future episode. If you’d like to have a full conversation, you can apply to be an anonymous caller at whenwedietalks.com.

SPEAKER_00:

Welcome back or welcome here if this is your first time. Before we begin, I just want to say happy Thanksgiving. I hope for easeful travel, wonderful time with friends and family, and hopefully a lot of delicious food. For today, whether it's full, complicated, restful, or something in between, I'm glad you're here. Let's take a few minutes to slow down together. This week's call brought something up that I've spent a lot of time contemplating. Our caller has brain cancer, and she knows it'll come back. There's no pretending, no illusion of later, no guarantee of decades. She's living with the kind of clarity most of us avoid until we're forced into it. But the truth is we're all in the same category, just with fuzzier timelines. Some people get a diagnosis, the rest of us get the illusion of more time. But the horizon we're all walking towards is the same. We're all dying. Some of us just happen to know a little bit more about when or how. We usually hear that and recoil. But seeing it clearly doesn't have to create panic. Sometimes it creates presence. It brings your life into focus. You know, the one that's already happening right now. So today's contemplation isn't about fear. It's about living with the awareness that time is limited and letting that awareness be clarifying instead of crushing. Let's settle into that together. Let's begin with a deep breath in and let it out. Again in and out. Let your body soften, let your shoulders drop, let the space around you quiet down, even if only a little. Feel the weight of your body. Feel the floor holding you up. Feel your breath moving through you without being asked. Life happening in real time. This week I want you to imagine something simple. There is a clock running in the background of your life. You can't see it. You can't pause it. You can't know how much time is left. But it's there. And it's the same for all of us. Some people get clear glimpses of it through illness, loss, or close calls, but most of us don't. We move through our days as if the supply is unlimited. But the reality doesn't change. So let yourself feel that for a moment. Not as a threat, but as a reminder. A reminder that your life is happening right now. Not later. Not someday. Now. Breathe into that. And as you sit with that truth, notice what it stirs in you. Does something inside you soften? Does something sharpen? Does anything shift? What becomes more precious when you remember that time is finite? What would you stop postponing? What would you stop pretending doesn't matter? And what falls away almost instantly when you acknowledge that you don't have forever? The grudges, the noise, the self-criticism, the stories about waiting for a better moment. Let your breath be steady. In and out. Let this awareness make your life feel more vivid, not more frightening. Let it bring your attention back to what's real, what's true, what you love, what you would miss. Take another slow deep breath in. And release. Let that be enough. Take a few moments here. Take one more deep breath here. And when you're ready, gently come back. As this contemplation ends, notice what's around you right now. The light, the sound, the feeling of being alive. That's why we do this. To remember that everything is temporary and therefore sacred. Thank you for listening and being part of this practice. Saturday contemplations are a weekly way to pause, to sit with the reality of death, and to notice how it shapes the way we live. Until next time, have a good life.