The Final Picture: The Art of Living With the End in Mind

Don’t Try” vs “See the Final Picture”

I still remember the day I picked up The Subtle Art of Not Giving a Fck*. This was long before it became a bestseller and started adorning every airport lounge shelf like some kind of orange-colored gospel. What pulled me in was not just Mark Manson’s writing, but the way he opened the book—with a man who was anything but a role model.

Charles Bukowski: alcoholic, gambler, womanizer, deadbeat, and, yes, poet. If there was a competition for wasting life, he’d be front-runner with a trophy in one hand and a beer in the other. Yet, somewhere in the final innings, the world began to recognize his words. Not that he cared. His tombstone reads just two words: “Don’t Try.”

Now, let’s be honest—that’s both profound and depressing. In his eyes, success, fame, meaning—those were all delusions. Don’t try, because in the end nothing matters, and we’re all headed to the same finish line anyway. If Manson had taken Bukowski’s advice literally, he could have ended the book right there in chapter one, shut shop, and gone out for a drink. But thankfully, he didn’t. He spent the rest of the book trying very hard to prove Bukowski wrong.

And here’s where I stand. While I get the appeal of “Don’t Try,” the problem is that it can suck the oxygen out of your spirit. If you take it at face value, then not just books, but movies, cricket matches, concerts, love affairs, even your favorite pani puri on a rainy evening—all of it becomes pointless.

But we still cheer at the climax of a movie knowing full well the hero isn’t real. We still feel our hearts race at a last-ball six even though it changes nothing in our life. That tells you something: even delusions can move us, and movement is what makes life feel alive.

So here’s my counter: instead of “Don’t Try,” I say “See the Final Picture.” Yes, everything ends. We’re all going to die—unless AI-driven medicine finds a cure, which might be a bigger curse than death itself. But that’s not the point. The point is this: if you know the ending is certain, why let trivial decisions, imagined fears, and the opinions of strangers you’ll never meet dictate how fully you live today?

That’s the philosophy I want to offer you. See the final picture first, and then live backward from it. Stephen Covey once called it “Begin with the End in Mind.” Steve Jobs reminded Stanford students to live each day as if it were their last. I’m simply putting it this way: if nothing matters in the end, then everything matters right now. That clarity is freedom. That freedom is direction. And that direction is what makes life worth the try.

The Psychology of “Nothing Matters in the End → Go Big Now”

One of the most underrated superpowers you and I already carry in our pockets is the simple reminder that one day we won’t be here. Mortality. It sounds heavy, even depressing, but in reality it can be the cleanest filter for life. Psychologists call this mortality salience.

There’s an entire body of research under something ominously named Terror Management Theory that shows how thinking of death makes us suddenly shift attention toward what we value most. Some people use it to chase status (bigger cars, bigger houses, bigger titles), but the wiser ones use it as a focusing tool—almost like cleaning up the cluttered desktop of the mind and keeping only the most important folders open.

Now, here’s the paradox: our brains are champions at making small things look huge. You forget a line in a meeting, and you feel like the whole office was staring at you. You wear the wrong shirt to a party, and you think people will discuss it till the end of time.

Welcome to loss aversion, the bias that makes a small setback feel like a personal earthquake. Add to this our natural social-evaluation fear—this constant worry of “what will others think?”—and you’ve got the perfect recipe for living small.

But shift the lens for just one minute: imagine your own funeral, or simply fast-forward to your ninetieth birthday. Suddenly, the fear of raising your hand in a meeting or posting that blog you’ve been drafting for months looks ridiculously tiny.

Steve Jobs said it best in his Stanford speech: “Remembering that you are going to die is the best way I know to avoid the trap of thinking you have something to lose.” When I first read that line, I quietly shut my laptop and stared into space. It was unsettling. Because he was right—I had been sweating over decisions that wouldn’t even make it into the memory reel of my own life.

Think about it. We all avoid things that could have given us real joy or growth—

• Dancing at a wedding because our two left feet might be noticed,

• Speaking our mind in a boardroom because someone may raise an eyebrow,

• Launching a side project because “what if it fails,”

• Or simply asking someone out because rejection feels unbearable.

  
  

All these fears are microscopic compared to the fact that time is running whether we dance or not, speak or not, build or not, love or not.

So how do you inject fearlessness into everyday life without waiting for a crisis to remind you? A few tricks that work like mental hacks:

• The 10–10–10 Rule: Ask yourself—how much will this matter in 10 minutes, 10 months, 10 years? Spoiler: most things won’t even survive the 10-month mark.

• The 90th Birthday Test: Picture yourself blowing out candles on your 90th. Would you be proud that you played safe and stayed quiet, or that you raised your voice, danced badly, built something, and lived fully?

• Fear-Setting: Tim Ferriss popularized this—write down your worst fear, then note what you can do to prevent it, and how you can repair it if it happens. Half the power of fear dissolves when you see it on paper.

• Regret Minimization Framework: Jeff Bezos used this when deciding whether to leave his cushy Wall Street job to start Amazon. He asked himself: “When I’m 80, will I regret not trying this?” That single question built an empire.

  
  

Here’s the irony: it takes courage to see how little actually matters. But once you do, you realize this is the most liberating realization of all. You don’t have to waste your energy building walls of trivial fears. You can spend it building a bigger life instead.

And I’m no stranger to this tug-of-war. I’ve skipped saying what I truly thought in meetings, only to come home and replay the moment a hundred times, wondering what could have been different if I had just spoken. I’ve avoided taking leaps because of invisible “what-ifs” handed down by a society that won’t even remember my name two generations later. But whenever I’ve dared to think in terms of the final picture, I’ve seen my heart beat differently, my decisions sharpen, and my courage multiply.

In the end, that’s the point. Remembering that nothing matters in the end doesn’t make life empty—it makes it fearless. And fearless is the only way you and I can truly go big.

Why We Slide Back Into the Rat Race (Even When We “Know” This)

So here’s the frustrating part: you know the truth. You’ve read the quotes, you’ve nodded at the wisdom, you’ve promised yourself you’ll live fully from today. And yet, two weeks later, you’re once again checking your colleague’s new car, scrolling through LinkedIn promotions, or bargaining with yourself about that next salary jump. Welcome back to the rat race.

Why do we fall into the same trap again and again?

The Hedonic Treadmill

There’s a classic study where researchers tracked lottery winners. The first few months were pure ecstasy—you can almost hear the champagne corks popping. But a year later, their happiness levels had quietly slipped back to baseline, not too different from the neighbor who never won a rupee. Psychologists call this hedonic adaptation—the thrill of new things fades, and soon you’re craving the next upgrade. That’s why that “dream house” or “dream job” often feels strangely normal once you’re in it. The brain resets the bar.

The Restless Mind

Even when life is calm, the brain rarely is. Neuroscientists call it the Default Mode Network—the idle mode where your thoughts wander endlessly. And guess what this wandering loves to feed on? Regrets of yesterday and anxieties of tomorrow. Left unchecked, the mind naturally drifts back to autopilot: more money, more recognition, more comparison. Harvard researchers note that a wandering mind is often an unhappy mind. It’s like being dragged into a noisy market when all you wanted was a quiet walk.

The Comparison Trap

Then comes the cruelest trick of all: social comparison. Leon Festinger’s theory tells us we don’t measure success in absolute terms, we measure it against the person next door. Your salary doesn’t feel low until you know your friend earns more. Your phone isn’t old until someone flashes the latest model.

Even podcasts and motivational talks now have a strange side-effect—they inspire you but also remind you that someone else is already “ahead.” And in that race of relative numbers, your own story quietly disappears.

Money: The Half-Truth

Now, money does matter—but not in the way we think. Research has gone back and forth on this.

• A 2010 study found that income raises your life evaluation, but emotional well-being flattens out after a point.

• A 2021 follow-up argued that well-being keeps rising with income.

• A 2023 reconciliation finally said: both were right, depending on whom you ask. For most people, more money keeps helping. But for the least happy, beyond a point, it doesn’t move the needle.

  
  

The takeaway? Money helps, but only up to the point where it frees you from survival anxiety. Beyond that, it’s not the weight of your wallet but the story you tell yourself that decides your joy.

Two Lives, Two Pictures

Take Sanu. Bright student, ambitious professional. Every five years, he chases the next promotion, the bigger car, the fancier apartment. Each milestone feels like victory, but soon the restlessness returns. He’s authored no “final picture,” so his life keeps expanding outward but never inward. At 60, he looks back and wonders why the ladder feels empty.

Now look at Jai. Early in her career, she asked herself: “What do I want my end to look like?” For her, it was meaningful work, time with family, travel, and health. She curated her career around those pillars. She still works hard, but status became a by-product, not the main meal. Her choices look smaller to the world, but her life feels bigger to her.

And that’s the difference. Without a final picture, the mind defaults to chasing what everyone else is chasing. With a final picture, you live authored, not automated.

So yes, you may already know the truth—but knowledge without anchoring will always slide back into the rat race. The hedonic treadmill is running whether you notice it or not. The question is: do you keep running on it, or do you step off to paint your own finish line?

People Who Stepped Off the Treadmill (and How)

The treadmill isn’t just in gyms—it’s in our lives. We run, sweat, pant, and yet stay in the same spot. Promotions, possessions, posts on social media—it all looks like movement, but it’s often just faster running on the same belt.

And yet, there are people—ordinary flesh-and-blood humans—who one day quietly step off. They aren’t running anymore. They’re walking, sometimes limping, sometimes crawling, but at least it’s on their own chosen road.

What makes them different? Not luck. Not divine intervention. It’s something far less glamorous but far more powerful:

• Clarity of the end picture. They know where their road leads.

• Non-negotiables. They draw a line in the sand and refuse to step back over it.

• Small daily systems. Nothing magical—just repeating the right action until it shapes the right life.

• Chosen constraints. They subtract the noise, instead of adding more noise to look busy.

• Community. They plug into relationships that support, not sabotage.

• A quiet contempt for showmanship. They don’t confuse applause with achievement.

  
  

It’s strangely comforting to realize: stepping off the treadmill doesn’t require wings. It just requires the courage to stop running in circles.

The “Financial Freedom” Fog

Here’s the truth nobody likes to say out loud: “financial freedom” is the world’s most sophisticated excuse. It feels smart, safe, and noble—Once I reach that number, then I’ll live fully. But most people who actually hit that number don’t suddenly sprout wings of happiness. They simply shift the goalpost.

Money, at best, buys you three things: safety, options, and time. Important, yes. But after that, it’s not your account balance but your mindset that decides how you live. A billion in the bank with a restless mind is still poverty of a different kind.

The fog comes from outsourcing your definition of “enough.” Society, relatives, social media—everyone has their own number, and you inherit it without questioning. The trick is to stop renting other people’s benchmarks and start owning your own. Define your enough, and suddenly the fog lifts.

Financial freedom is not a milestone, it’s a mindset. You don’t reach it by counting more zeroes—you reach it the day you stop letting money dictate the size of your dreams.

The Playbook: “See the Final Picture → Go Big”

Big ideas are easy to admire, hard to live. Here’s how I anchor mine in the middle of office noise, family chaos, and my own wandering mind.

1. Write the Epitaph & Eulogy

One line epitaph. Five lines eulogy. If I can’t explain my life in six lines, I’m probably living someone else’s script.

2. My 3 Non-Negotiables

Mind Flow. Family. Health. That’s it. If these three are intact, I’m winning—even if Instagram thinks otherwise.

3. Pre-Mortem the Big Move

Don’t ask “what if it works?” Ask “what if it fails?” Spot the potholes early, fix what you can.

4. Fear-Setting

Define. Prevent. Repair. Stick it on the wall. Fears look like monsters in the head; on paper, they look like lizards.

5. WOOP the Quarter

Wish → Outcome → Obstacle → Plan. Add the magic lock: If X happens, I’ll do Y.Simple. Repeatable. Hard to argue with.

6. Design the Week for Courage

• Big Move Block: 2×90 mins only for work that matters.

• Cut 3 Drains: Meetings, apps, “urgent” nonsense.

  
  

7. Anchor Rituals

Memento mori token on desk. Epitaph as phone lock screen. Friday evening → mail to my 90-year-old self. Keeps me honest.

8. Accountability Duo

Two people who remind me when I start drifting. Less flattering, more useful.

9. Offload the Brain

10 minutes journaling at night = cheaper than therapy, quieter than rumination.

10. Recovery Basics

Sleep. Movement. Sunlight. Phone-free evenings. The real hacks are boring.

11. Micro-Bravery Reps

One uncomfortable ask a day. Tiny courage compiles into big courage.

12. Prosocial Habit

One joyful give a week—time, money, or kindness. Happiness on installment.

Because in the end, nothing matters. Which is exactly why, right now, everything does.

Use It Everywhere

Big philosophies are useless if they sit on the shelf. The “final picture” only matters if you let it guide the ordinary Tuesday.

At Work

Don’t just show up. Speak truth in meetings, ship drafts even when they’re not polished, choose value over visibility. Promotions fade, but integrity compounds.

With Family

Ritualize dinners. Honest conversations. No phones between 7–9 pm. Presence beats presents every single time.

Health

10,000 steps. Protein habit. Sunlight. Schedule your health like revenue—because without it, the rest collapses.

Creative Flow

Publish weekly. Don’t worship “perfect.” “Done” is the only bridge to better.

Nature’s Reminders

Sea turtles swim thousands of miles with an end-state compass built in. Ants build empires grain by grain. A bonsai shapes beauty slowly, through patience and discipline. The universe is full of metaphors, if only we pause to notice.

My Own Proof

Three times in my life I’ve looked at the end-picture and gone big. Once when I decided to stop waiting and write my first book. Once when I dared to stand on stage instead of hiding behind the crowd. Once when I started shaping Mind Flow as more than an idea in my head. Each time, fear shrank, clarity grew, and life felt more mine.

Final Words

Because everything ends, your direction is the most important thing you own. Write your epitaph now, then let every calendar block justify it. See the final picture. Go big. Begin today.