“To every man upon this earth

Death cometh soon or late.

And how can man die better

Than facing fearful odds,

For the ashes of his fathers,

And the temples of his gods?”

- Thomas Babington Macaulay

This line always hits me in the gut.

I don’t think it’s about dying in war or glory or any of that.

To me, it’s asking something quieter:

What would it take to live in a way that gives your death meaning?

Some days, I feel like I’m just reacting.

Emails. Deadlines. Slack messages.

It’s easy to fall into the rhythm of survival - and call it living.

But when things go still,

when I’m alone with my thoughts,

this one question keeps resurfacing:

If this was my last week, would any of this matter?

I don’t have dramatic answers.

But here’s what I’ve been holding onto lately.

I want to stand for something - even if it’s small.

Not loudly.

Not to impress.

Just something I believe in enough to keep showing up for it.

Even when no one’s watching.

I want to build things that last.

Not apps. Not résumés.

Moments. Trust.

Maybe even a little courage in the people around me.

I want to leave clean.

I’ve seen how easy it is to drift -

to get stuck in jobs, roles, dynamics where you feel like a cog with a face.

I don’t want that.

If I go, I want to go mid-sentence -

writing something, building something, loving someone properly.

I guess what I’m saying is:

I want to be proud of where I am when the curtain drops.

Not for legacy. Not for ego.

Just so that if the lights go out tomorrow,

I’d think: “Yeah… that was worth it.”

That’s all.

Just something I needed to write down today.

If you’ve ever felt this way too - I see you.