In the words of sixteenth-century French essayist Michel de Montaigne, “To begin depriving death of its greatest advantage over us, let us deprive death of its strangeness, let us frequent it, let us get used to it; let us have nothing more often in mind than death.”14 But exposure does more than just defeat fear. Contemplating death can even make

mindfulness—living in the present as opposed to the past or future—which studies consistently find leads us to be happier people. But it also helps us to make the decisions that truly expose our best selves.

According to Leo Tolstoy, “The worst thing about death is the fact that when a man is dead it is impossible any longer to undo the harm you have done him, or to do the good you haven’t done him. They say: live in such a way as to be always ready to die. I would say: live in such a way that anyone can die without you having anything to regret.”11

The fear of decline involves this same fear of nonexistence. If my existence in relation to others is defined by my professional accomplishment or standing, my decline will effectively erase me. Not surprisingly, the ways people deal with the crisis of nonexistence are the same as how they deal with professional decline.

Whether paralyzing or mild, the fear of death has eight distinct dimensions: fear of being destroyed, fear of the dying process, fear of the dead, fear for significant others, fear of the unknown, fear of conscious death, fear for body after death, and fear of premature death.3

Ability based on fluid intelligence increases, and then declines, in every profession. Some earlier, and some later; there are some key differences, but it is a misconception that decline can be delayed indefinitely in a profession just because it doesn’t require physical strength. We saw that “idea professions” see decline, too—generally, decades

“My work is my life”? If you have, then your fear of decline is actually a type of fear of death. If you live to work—if your work is your life, or at least the source of your identity—proof of being fully alive is your professional ability and achievement. So when it declines, you are in the process of dying.

In other words: work, work, work, croak. No second curve, because there’s no need for one. I call this the “Rage Against the Dying of the Light” strategy to deal with decline in fluid intelligence, named for Dylan Thomas’s well-known 1951 poem “Do Not Go Gentle into That Good Night,” which famously enjoins the reader, “Rage, rage against the dying

Satisfaction comes not from chasing bigger and bigger things, but paying attention to smaller and smaller things.