How we'd live out our last day on earth. What would you do?

“Live every day like it’s your last.”

How many times we’ve heard this? How many times has a sky-diving, thrill seeking, extreme-sport-adventurer told us to live each day to the fullest? As if it’s our last day on earth.

But this is difficult. Impossible, even. Sure, we’d all love to be thrill junkies with a beautiful tan, lovely arm muscles and a wide, I’m-100%-lived-up-and-high-on-life smile. We’d all love to spend our days adventuring, exploring, just in case one of those might be our last.

But most of us have to work. And our work usually involves a desk, maybe a standing desk, computers, phone calls, meetings, boardrooms, forward thinking about strategy and reach and company goals. Not always “living in the moment” not always doing things for the thrill. Usually doing things for other people. More often than not, doing things things that we might not even see the end result of.

But can’t we, too, live our life to the fullest?

Isn’t “living every day like it’s your last” more a mindset? Isn’t it what you make of moments? As opposed to purely the experience?

I asked around the office about “living each day as if it’s your last” for realists. I asked: What are the everyday moments that you would want to fill your last day on earth with?

The responses are heartwarming.

There’s a lot about food.

I’d eat cookie dough. Lots of it. – Stacey, 26.

Go out for breakfast and order the pancakes AND the avocado toast….and hash browns. – Nikki, 32.

I would eat everything my heart desires. So much McDonald’s. Plus a dinner of the skin from 7 bags of bbq chicken  (the best bit) and macaroni cheese. – Ashley, 30.

Go out for breakfast and order both sweet and savoury, have burgers and loaded fries for lunch then my dad’s full English Christmas lunch for dinner (even if not Xmas). – Claudia, 29.

I’d eat the food from my childhood and spend the remainder of the day writing long individual letters to loved ones. – Kate, 26.

A lot about kids, family, loved-ones.

I would just hug my kids all day. We’d probably all just lie in bed together and talk about stuff. – Claire, 46.

I would watch a movie in the middle of the day with my family and eat sushi , honey soy chicken chips and Maltesers and we would all do each others hair. – Gemma, 39.

Hang with the kids. Let them eat all the trash foods and watch TV all day with them. – Ally, 42.

I would spend the day swimming at the beach with my girlfriend with my close family and friends sitting on the shore. – Sam, 23.

I would stay at home with my kids binge-eating, snuggling, watching a funny movie, hugging our pets and never tell them a thing. – Bianca, 39.

I would make sure that everything was in place for my husband to be able to have full uncontested custody of our daughter. Make sure my life insurance papers were in order for them both. Write out a will so the few things I own go to the right place. Then I’d clean the house really good and make sure there was lots of food. I’d pick my daughter up from school and we would dance and sing, take pictures for her, I would tell her how much I loved her and not to worry about homework that day. When my husband came home we would all spend time together as a family. Once my daughter passed out I would make love to my husband until he fell asleep. Then I’d write letters to the most important people in my life. I’d try to die somewhere that wasn’t our house so it wouldn’t feel haunted after I was gone. – Ndndndnd on Reddit.

I’d talk to my ex and ask her for forgiveness for what I did to her. – Clippervictor on Reddit.

And there was this, one gem of truth.

I would throw away my vacuum cleaner. And I would get really really really drunk. On Moet. – Amy, 32.

Mindfulness meditation for children. Post continues below video.

The idea makes me think about the book Tuesdays With Morrie. It’s a book about an old professor, who is diagnosed with ALS. He doesn’t spend the rest of his days doing crazy, extreme, around-the-world things. Instead, he spends his days with family. Surrounded by friends. Simply sitting and watching the sun fall on the leaves. Watching the trees change shape and colour with the seasons. Smiling. Drinking tea. Laughing with the people he loves.

In a way, Morrie was “lucky” that his diagnosis permitted him to have this time. To cherish these moments.

But it’s a reminder to all of us. That we can still live every day as if it’s our last, even while going to work and servicing the car and meeting commitments.

By cherishing those in-between moments of everyday life, we can also lives our life to their fullest without a parachute in sight. We might not have the sun tan or the muscly arms, but we can feel our own deep thrills just the same.