Lately I haven’t been sleeping much. My mind keeps running, my anxiety’s been up, and I know it’s because I’ve got some big, messy decisions in front of me that I can’t avoid anymore. I’ve been thinking about it a lot. Praying about it too.

After picking up a book from Father Mike, I thought I’d read a few pages, maybe feel a little inspired, underline a quote or two, and move on with my day. You know, light growth. Nothing too deep.

And then right there at the beginning, he drops this question like a brick:

Are you living for the resume or the eulogy?

I had to stop. I wasn’t expecting to get called out like that.

Because suddenly it wasn’t just a question on a page. It was a mirror. And I didn’t love what I saw.

The Question That Won’t Leave Me Alone

What will people actually say about you when you’re gone?

Not the phony LinkedIn version. Not the bullet points. Not the promotions, the titles, the “hard worker” comments.

I mean really say.

Will they talk about how productive you were?
How impressive your career looked on paper?
How busy you always seemed?

Or will they talk about you?

The way you made people feel.
The way you showed up.
The way you loved, laughed, listened, lived.

That question has been sitting heavy on my chest ever since I read it. Because if I’m being honest, I’ve spent a lot of my life building a resume.

Chasing things that look good.
Grinding for validation.
Saying yes to things that drained my soul because they sounded important.

And I’m starting to wonder who that’s actually for.

Resume Living Is a Trap

We don’t talk about this enough.

How easy it is to slip into a life that looks good but feels empty.

You hit the milestones.
You check the boxes.
You stay busy enough to avoid asking the deeper questions.

From the outside, everything makes sense.

From the inside, something feels off.

There’s this quiet voice that creeps in when things slow down. The one that asks, “Is this it?”

And instead of answering it, we open another tab, take on another project, set another goal.

Because if we stop, we might have to admit that we’re not actually fulfilled. We’re just accomplished.

And those are not the same thing.

The Eulogy Life Feels Different

When you flip the question, everything shifts.

Living for your eulogy isn’t about being perfect or becoming some kind of saint. It’s about being real. It’s about being present. It’s about choosing what actually matters even when it doesn’t come with applause.

It looks like:

Calling someone back when you said you would.
Sitting with a friend instead of rushing off to the next thing.
Being fully there instead of half scrolling, half listening.
Loving people in ways that are inconvenient, messy, and unfiltered.

No one stands at a funeral and says, “They answered emails so fast!”

They talk about how you showed up.

They talk about the time you stayed.
The time you helped.
The time you cared when you didn’t have to.

That’s the stuff that sticks.

This Hit Me at the Right Time

I can’t even pretend this came out of nowhere.

Lately, I’ve been in this weird in between space. Questioning things. Reevaluating what I’m doing and why I’m doing it.

Looking at my life and asking, “Is this aligned or just familiar?”

And then I read that question.

Of course I did.

Because sometimes the truth finds you exactly when you’ve run out of excuses to ignore it.

So What Am I Actually Chasing?

That’s where I’m at right now.

I’m realizing I don’t want a life that just looks good on paper. I don’t want to be remembered as someone who was always busy but never really there.

I want depth.
I want connection.
I want a life that feels like mine, not one I built to impress people I don’t even know or like.

And that means I have to start making different choices.

Being more present.
Being more intentional.
Letting go of people, places, and things that only serve my resume but starve my soul.

If You’re Feeling This Too

Maybe this question hits you the same way it hit me.

Maybe you’ve been running on autopilot.
Maybe you’ve been chasing things that don’t even feel like yours anymore.
Maybe you’re tired in a way that sleep doesn’t fix.

If that’s you, you’re not alone.

But also, this might be your moment to pause and ask yourself:

Who am I becoming?

Not what am I achieving.
Not what am I building.
Not what will people think.

Who am I, really?

Because at the end of all of this, that’s what people remember.

And honestly, that’s what you’ll have to live with long before that.

So…What Now?

I don’t have this all figured out.

I’m still in it. Still unlearning. Still catching myself slipping back into old patterns.

But I can’t unread that question.

And I don’t think I’m supposed to.

So here’s to choosing a life that actually means something. Not just one that looks like it does.

Here’s to living in a way that, when it’s all said and done, people don’t just list what we did.

They remember who we were.