Life

Why I Built This

My work desktop has a quote I borrowed from Steve Jobs:

"If today were the last day of my life, would I want to do what I am about to do today?"

It’s simple, but it lingers.

I think about death more often than most people admit. Not in a heavy or fearful way, but as a reference point. A boundary condition. Something that sharpens everything else.

Somewhere along the way, I made peace with it.

But that hasn’t made life feel smaller. If anything, it’s done the opposite. I still look forward to the big things, the unknowns, the wins, the quiet moments that don’t announce themselves as important until much later. Living like each day could be the last doesn’t cancel the future. It just makes the present harder to ignore.

Recently, I came across this page: anthonymorris.dev/life.

It’s simple, just a visualization of a life in time. But it stuck with me. Not because it’s dramatic, but because it’s honest.

So I’m building my own version.

I was born at midnight on September 13th, right as the day turned into the 14th. A clean boundary. Almost symbolic. It makes it easy to define a starting point.

From there, the idea is straightforward:

Two clocks.

One counts up, from the moment I was born. The other counts down, toward an estimated end.

For the second clock, I’ll use the current life expectancy in Uganda as a baseline. Not because it’s precise, but because it’s real enough to matter.

The goal isn’t to be morbid. It’s not about obsessing over the end.

It’s about awareness.

Because time, when left abstract, is easy to waste. But when you can see it, when it’s moving, always, in the corner of your screen, it becomes harder to ignore the trade-offs you’re making.

What am I spending my time on?
What am I postponing?
What actually matters?

This page won’t answer those questions for me.

But it will make sure I keep asking them.

Funny thing is, you can calculate yours too.