Contemplating Mortality: The Science-Backed Benefits
How reflecting on death can make you happier, kinder, and more present, according to neuroscience and psychology.
What if the thing we fear most - death - could actually be what makes life worth living?
We spend so much energy avoiding it. We soften it with euphemisms, push it out of sight, let the busyness of life shield us from its edges. But the truth is, death is always with us. And when we finally turn toward it, even briefly, something shifts. We become sharper, softer, more alive.
Maybe it’s on my mind because my birthday is coming up this week. Birthdays have this quiet way of reminding us that time is moving, even when we’d rather not think about it. Psychologists call this the birthday effect, a phenomenon where birthdays heighten our awareness of mortality and, oddly enough, sometimes even correlate with an increased likelihood of death around those dates. Morbid? Maybe. But it makes sense. A birthday is both a celebration of life and a subtle whisper: you’re not here forever. That whisper can either trigger fear or invite us to live differently.
Recently, I listened to an episode of The Huberman Lab Podcast featuring Dr. David DeSteno (Episode 243). They dive into something that caught my attention immediately: how the fear of death can become a tool, not by ignoring it, but by inviting it in. Not in a morbid way, but as a practice that can ground our values and bring clarity we didn’t know we were missing.
The Science of Mortality Awareness
When we contemplate mortality, it does something profound in the brain: it forces us to zoom out. Instead of living on autopilot, checking boxes, chasing endless “somedays,” we come face to face with what’s finite. And according to neuroscience and psychology, that’s not just a mental game. It changes behavior.
Psychologists call this mortality salience, awareness of death that shifts what we care about and how we act. This is at the heart of Terror Management Theory (TMT), which suggests that when we confront our own impermanence, we instinctively reach for stability. Our values, beliefs, and meaningful pursuits, as a buffer against anxiety. Left unchecked, this can make people defensive or rigid. But when approached with curiosity, mortality salience can open the door to growth and connection.
Here’s why. Neurologically, thinking about death in a structured way calms the amygdala, the brain’s fear center, while activating the prefrontal cortex, the region responsible for planning, reasoning, and meaning-making. Instead of spiraling into panic, your brain enters a state that promotes clarity and focus on what matters most.
There’s even a physiological layer. Reflecting on our shared vulnerability can stimulate the vagus nerve, a key player in the parasympathetic nervous system. This subtle activation lowers heart rate and shifts the body toward a state of calm connection, priming us for empathy and compassion rather than fear.
And then there’s awe, that vast, perspective-shifting state that often accompanies mortality reflection. Research shows that awe slows our sense of time and heightens life satisfaction. When we contemplate our finite existence against something bigger - nature, art, the cosmos - it creates a kind of reverent pause that anchors us firmly in the present.
Gratitude joins the conversation too. When mortality awareness is layered with gratitude, the brain’s reward system lights up. Dopamine surges when we savor what’s fleeting. We become more motivated to act on the things that matter and to savor them while we can.
Finally, this entire process builds what psychologists call existential curiosity, the willingness to face life’s biggest unknowns instead of running from them. That willingness is strongly linked to resilience. In short, people who can hold space for uncertainty, especially the uncertainty of death, tend to weather life’s storms with greater strength and adaptability.
Why Thinking About Death Helps
When we acknowledge that life will end, something remarkable happens: priorities sharpen. The argument you were ready to have on Instagram suddenly feels less urgent. The rush to climb ladders or collect more things starts to loosen its grip. And in its place? Gratitude. Not the performative kind, but the quiet realization that the most ordinary moments - a sip of coffee, a shared laugh, your dog snoring at your feet - are luxuries.
This awareness doesn’t just make us grateful. It softens us. When we remember that everyone around us is carrying the same fragile truth, that none of us gets to stay, it’s harder to cling to judgment and easier to lean into compassion. And it wakes up our sense of purpose. Knowing we don’t have forever nudges us to stop deferring dreams for “someday.” Mortality, it turns out, is the most honest motivator we’ll ever meet.
Simple Practices to Try
You don’t need a meditation retreat to start. Try beginning your day with a quiet question: If today were my last, what would matter most? Let that answer guide even one decision.
At night, write down three things you’re grateful for, not because they’re big, but because they exist. Gratitude, layered over mortality awareness, taps the brain’s dopamine pathways, making fleetingness feel precious instead of terrifying.
Build small reminders into your day. When life feels chaotic, pause for thirty seconds, take a breath, and remember: nothing is permanent. And if you feel brave, make one gesture this week that reflects the legacy you want to leave. Send the text. Make the apology. Start the thing you’ve been waiting for. There’s no better time than now.
What It Comes Down To
In my role as a death doula, I’ve watched mortality clarity change everything. Families finally forgive each other. Words that were swallowed for decades suddenly make their way into the room. Not because fear disappeared, but because they turned toward it, and in doing so, realized they still had time to love well.
This isn’t morbid. It’s sacred. It’s an antidote to numbness, to the illusion that we’re guaranteed endless tomorrows.
Death isn’t life’s enemy, it’s life’s teacher. When we allow it to whisper in our ear, not as a threat, but as a reminder, we show up differently. We choose presence. We prioritize meaning. We love harder.
As I step into another year, I’m holding that truth close: life is fragile, which is exactly what makes it beautiful.
Resources & References
Huberman Lab Podcast: Episode 243 with Dr. David DeSteno
Research on mortality awareness: Terror Management Theory
Birthday Effect Studies: Phillips, D. P., Van Voorhees, C. G., & Ruth, T. E. (1992). The birthday: lifeline or deadline? Psychosomatic Medicine