It’s 4am and I can just about see my hands through the thick warm smoke of the basement. Just one more stop before a journey home with that satisfying inner glow of a job you love doing, done well.
The atmosphere’s electric despite the late hour. The Queen is holding court.
“Quuuuuuuyyy!!!!”
James Lee Williams a.k.a The Vivienne a.k.a. The Viv, resident diva at the iconic G-Bar and rising star of the Liverpool drag scene, waves down from the DJ booth with an immaculately manicured hand.
They strike a pose, smouldering into my camera with slinky sensuality before flowing back into the mix and the adoration of the bustling crowd.
James was born to be up front and on stage. Literally no-one is surprised when they lip sync their way to 1st place and global rcognition in the inaugural season of RuPaul’s Drag Race UK. We were all so proud - the girl done good.
As co-founder and CMO of a nightlife media startup, one of my duties/perks was to lead our club photographers and build relationships with venues, promoters and DJs. The Viv was a standout talent in a scene rife with larger than life, outrageously flamboyant souls. When they entered the room, you felt it.
I learn of their demise on social media in January 2025, two startups and a decade on from hanging up my dancefloor camera.
It’s not the first time I’ve discovered a friend’s fate in this way. Not the first time a bright light’s gone out far too soon. But this one hits different. It thoroughly knocks the wind out of me and I let out an involuntary, anguished “NO!!” as I see the stream of RIP posts tagging James. I let Jade know with a tear in my eye, and it puts a stop to what she’s doing too.
Such vivid, electric energy… gone. I’ll never hear “Quuuyy!!!” again, or step out for a cigarette and gossip, I mean “exchange of mutual acquaintance updates,” again.
It’s brutal, the contrast between the spine-tingling crowd energy of a heaving G-Bar basement and the emptiness of James’ eternal absence. And much as I’d rather not go there right now, my mind finds itself in deep and initially uncomfortable waters.
It’d been a while since I thought about death.
A. Not ideal as a conversation starter
B. Always much else to think about
When I last deepdived though, two frameworks stood out and I practiced them daily for some time. One from a titan of Silicon Valley, the other of a Stoic philosopher in ancient Rome.
Like a mental ice bath, Steve Jobs and Seneca both encourage facing up to your inevitable long term destination every day as the ultimate flex in the great game of life.
Mortality Reframed
In his famed Stanford commencement speech, Jobs shares a heuristic for sense-checking where you’re at.
He looks in the mirror every morning and asks: "If today were the last day of my life, would I want to do what I am about to do today?"
If the answer’s "No" for too many days in a row, he knows he needs to pivot.
For founders and CEOs, the corporate machine is a relentless engine of manufactured urgency. We stack priorities, optimise metrics, and manage expectations - the Board, the market, the team, our own.
Jobs reframes mortality as a final forcing function for strategy. Death is the single best invention of Life.
"Remembering that you are going to die
is the best way I know to avoid the trap
of thinking you have something to lose.
You are already naked.
There is no reason not to follow your heart."
When you run a company, failure (however you define it) feels catastrophic.
Remembering that you’re playing an infinite game on a finite personal timeline is a pivotal reframe. It strips away the intellectual vanity that keeps us trapped in projects, relationships, and habits that do not serve our greater good.
The Daily Audit
Two millennia before Jobs, the Roman Stoic philosopher Seneca practiced Meditatio Mortis - the deliberate, daily rehearsal of one’s own demise.
Living under the volatile tyranny of Emperor Nero, Seneca knew that physical and political freedoms could be removed arbitrarily and implacably. Much as it can wherever the collective has power over the individual i.e. every society by definition.
Nero represents a particularly unpredictable macro-environment; your "tyrant" might be market volatility or sudden industry disruption. When we balance our books with death each day, we strip it of its terror. We change the calculus of what really matters.
Recognising that we are completely and unavoidably helpless in the face of tyrants and time is strangely liberating. It evolves your key life metric from quantity to quality.
Want to go deep? Here’s an excellent resource by The Consciousness Lab (we have no affiliate link).
An operational audit doesn’t require an hour of meditation. Only that you look at your next calendar entry and ask if it truly deserves a precious portion of your existence - you get about 1000 minutes a day*, a budget that doesn’t carry over.
* per Ryan Serhant, once eating, sleeping and family time are accounted for.
Unexpected Upside
We naturally crave purpose. It’s not enough to merely survive - we need to thrive, to have a sense that it’s all going somewhere.
Quite unexpectedly I discovered a direct correlation between being comfortable with death & possessing a clear sense of purpose.
It started tangentially, with me fretting about the scarily accelerating velocity of time, not least as Baby Lyra became a toddler. She was born a mere 5 feet from where I write these words, a home water birth fraught with drama and uncertainty, and heralding the single biggest upheaval of my entire life. A vivid memory that feels not that long ago, yet somehow also another lifetime away.
“I thought we had more time”
In 2025, our daughter turns 2 as I celebrate my half century.
I’m probably 60%+ into my lifespan.
I’ll be 66 when she’s legally adult.
Even older if I get to be grandpa.
“Do not regret growing old,
it is a privilege denied to many.”
True. Still…
One day, the music stops. The smoke clears and we become the eternal absence in someone else's memory.
The glittering energy of G Bar and Liverpool Pride with James;
The relentless pressure of enterprise and family leadership;
The achingly beautiful moments watching your child play.
At first glance this suggests a bleak outlook ahead.
But there's nothing like the departure of something you cherish, to reveal the extent of your affection.
And it hits me that the reason I have so much to lose is because I experienced them in the first place.
The greyness disperses like windy clouds before the bright sun of realisation:
In order to die, we have to live
What is grief, if not love persevering?
Life is beautiful. A miracle and a privilege
of which I get this expiring allocation.
Every day I work towards my goals
adding daily to my memories
(priceless assets for life)
This… rocks.
The appreciation that blossoms from this epiphany is profound and warms the furthest reaches of my soul. I’ve found a new load bearing pillar for my gratitude architecture.
Thank you life, for all the Time.
Goodbye my friend. Never forgotten.
Quy