Early in his new book, The Road to Character (on loan from my friend Gary), NYT columnist and media pundit, David Brooks, uses resumes and eulogies to help us focus on our values.

I really like this approach and have actually thought a good deal about it in recent years.

His premise is that we spend far more time and energy considering hypothetical (or real) resumes than we do considering the kind of retrospective we’d hope would be shared upon our death.

By resumes, he means the list of accomplishments and skill sets that define us and give us value and worth. This refers to far more than just the professional. By eulogy, he means the central qualities that define who we are and what our life actually meant.

I know I have written on this before, both directly and indirectly. But I think it deserves repeated attention.

In more esoteric fashion, this is the difference between a state of doing vs. a state of being. In Christian tradition, it’s in the ballpark of the distinction between sisters Martha and Mary.

Whether or not we actually want someone or a group to memorialize us after we die, wouldn’t it be an interesting exercise to consider the key points we’d hope would be mentioned? This would include a description of our character, with examples. The nature of our relationships. The things we believed had ultimate value. The one or two things when mentioned would unify the audience and result in everyone nodding their heads in agreement. Things that would be carried forever in the hearts of others, not just in their heads.

As my friend Ken would say, this exercise defines a vision going forward, a pathway in a certain direction. It is not just a retrospective, it is a picture of the present and the future.

In a practical sense, what if we shared the outline with a very close friend or spouse? What if we opened ourselves up and said here is what I’d like, give me your honest opinion? And, can you help me live more fully into the values I hold so dear?

To be honest, though, this kind of thing can be scary. Many of us know all too well of our failings. (I feel bad for the ones who don’t.)

Offhand, I don’t know the eulogy for John Newton, the notorious slave ship captain who met God and championed abolition, later penning my favorite hymn, Amazing Grace. But, I’d hazard it was a good one. I’m sure it had its references to his remarkable accomplishments (including mentoring and motivating the great William Wilberforce) but I’d also hope it described a man whose pride was dashed and who rose up in love.

I’ll leave this short piece there. Are we building resumes or euologies? Do we know our true purpose? If not, maybe we should really think about it. Of all the possible values that define our behavior and the behavior of others, which ones stand out as the ones we hold most dear? How would people who know us define our character? And, if we find ourselves falling short of being the kind of person we’d like to be, what can we do about it? Because, of course, it’s not too late to get to work on that eulogy.