Embracing Mortality in a Digital Age: How One Story Illuminates the Path Ahead
We live in a paradoxical time. On the one hand, our lives are increasingly digitized — documented, shared, and stored online with stunning granularity. On the other hand, some of the most essential conversations, like those surrounding death, dying, and legacy, are still clouded by discomfort and denial. But what if death could be met not with dread or avoidance, but with intention, creativity, and connection?

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We live in a paradoxical time. On the one hand, our lives are increasingly digitized — documented, shared, and stored online with stunning granularity. On the other hand, some of the most essential conversations, like those surrounding death, dying, and legacy, are still clouded by discomfort and denial. But what if death could be met not with dread or avoidance, but with intention, creativity, and connection?
A recent story has captured attention for doing just that. It centers on Jack Tuller, a man who, upon learning his terminal diagnosis had returned, made a choice: not simply to face death, but to turn it into a kind of legacy performance, a deeply personal project of preparation and storytelling. His journey, captured in the documentary Jack Has a Plan, and further explored in a conversation on the Digital Legacy Podcast, offers profound insight into how we might approach the end of life—not only for ourselves, but for those we love.
The Gift of Being Prepared
One of the most striking elements of Jack’s story is how prepared he was. This wasn’t just about legal documents or funeral arrangements, though those played a part. Jack’s preparation extended into the emotional and psychological realms, allowing his friends and family to begin grieving before he was gone. In this sense, Jack didn’t just prepare for death—he prepared others for his absence.
This is a critical shift in perspective. We often focus on the logistics of end-of-life planning—wills, medical directives, digital passwords. But emotional preparation, candid conversation, and community involvement are just as essential. Jack’s openness became a gift. It gave his loved ones clarity, time to say goodbye, and space to process complex feelings before grief was compounded by shock.
Digital Storytelling and the Intimacy of Legacy
Jack’s story is also a product of our times in another way: the digital storytelling movement. Thanks to smartphones and social media, we now have the unprecedented ability to document our lives—and our deaths—with immediacy and intimacy. Jack and his close friend, filmmaker Bradley Berman, leaned into this, using modest tools (like a mirrorless camera and even iPhones) to capture conversations, moments of levity, hospital visits, and reflections.
This casual, almost DIY approach to documenting death is part of a larger cultural shift. On TikTok, Instagram, and YouTube, more and more people facing terminal illnesses are choosing to share their experiences publicly. For some, it's a therapeutic outlet. For others, it’s an act of legacy—a way to say, “I was here. This mattered.”
Jack’s choice to chronicle his final years wasn’t just about telling his story. It was also about modeling what dying with dignity and authenticity can look like. His humor, honesty, and clarity have reached thousands, if not millions, and have sparked vital conversations in households and hospitals alike.
Dying on Your Own Terms
One of the most personal—and sometimes controversial—aspects of Jack’s story is his use of medical aid in dying. In jurisdictions where it is legal, this option allows terminally ill individuals to choose the time and manner of their death. For Jack, this wasn’t about giving up. It was about maintaining agency, avoiding unnecessary suffering, and protecting the dignity he valued so deeply.
Importantly, Jack’s approach wasn’t a one-size-fits-all solution. He didn’t evangelize or push his decisions onto others. His was simply a story—a deeply personal narrative about one man’s path through the final chapter of life. And in sharing that story, he invited others to reflect on their own values, fears, and hopes.
The choice to end one’s life on one’s own terms is never easy. It is often fraught with ethical, religious, and familial complexities. But Jack’s story reminds us that choice — autonomy — matters. And that honoring those choices, whether or not we agree with them, is part of loving someone well.
Lessons for the Living
Perhaps the greatest takeaway from Jack’s journey is not how he died, but how he lived in the face of death. He downsized his home. He reconnected with estranged family. He made peace with unresolved questions. He prioritized laughter, relationships, and presence. He didn’t leave a legacy of things—he left a legacy of experiences, memories, and conversations.
Jack also embraced contentment. At a time when many of us are constantly chasing what’s next—more success, more stuff, more stimulation—Jack’s clarity is refreshing. He didn’t need more records or new underwear, as he jokingly noted. He was satisfied. And in that satisfaction, he found peace.
For those of us still very much alive, this raises powerful questions: What are we holding onto that no longer serves us? What conversations are we avoiding out of fear? How can we live in a way that makes death less of an interruption and more of a culmination?
The Role of Companionship and Creative Witnessing
Bradley Berman, Jack’s longtime friend and the filmmaker behind Jack Has a Plan, played a unique role—not just as an observer, but as a creative partner and witness. Their project began informally, with no concrete idea of making a film. It was, at first, just two friends talking, documenting, and being together.
This kind of companionship—grounded in presence, humor, and creative collaboration—is invaluable. Not everyone has the luxury of a friend with camera skills. But everyone deserves a witness, someone to accompany them, to listen without judgment, to affirm their story.
And for those of us who support someone who is dying, Jack’s story offers a subtle but essential shift: it’s not always about helping them. Sometimes, the dying are the ones helping us. They can teach us how to let go, how to say goodbye, and how to carry love forward into the next season of our lives.
An Invitation to Begin
Death isn’t optional. But how we prepare for it — and how we support others in their preparation — is a choice. It’s a choice to lean into vulnerability. A choice to document and share. A choice to talk about what really matters before it’s too late.
Whether you're navigating a terminal diagnosis, supporting a loved one, or simply wanting to get your affairs in order, Jack’s story is a clarion call: Don’t wait. Talk. Plan. Create. Laugh. Grieve. And above all, connect.
Jack's journey is more than a documentary. It’s a roadmap to a more honest, meaningful way of facing the inevitable.
🎥 Want to witness Jack’s extraordinary story for yourself?
Watch Jack Has a Plan on YouTube, then tune into the premier episode of the Digital Legacy Podcast to hear about the experience from Bradley's perspective, and join the conversation about living—and dying—with intention and grace.
If something happened to you, would the people in your life know what to do? Don't leave your loved ones in the dark. Start developing your end-of-life and digital legacy plan. Download the My Final Playbook App on the App Store or Google Play or visit us online at Final-Playbook.Passion.io to get started. With My Final Playbook, you'll be able to start and learn how to organize your legal, financial, physical, and digital assets today. Until then, keep your password safe and your playbook up to date.
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