How to Swan Song

Pretend you’re dying… More on that in a bit.

It’s always easier to solve someone else’s problems, isn’t it?

Start lifting weights.
Break up with the toxic partner.
Stop climbing the corporate ladder when you’re clearly an entrepreneur at heart.

Obvious… to everyone but the person living it.

But here’s the thing: everyone is fighting a battle inside that no one else can see. Each of us moves through the world with a certain architecture—our beliefs, behaviors, defense mechanisms—some inherited, some constructed. That architecture shapes how we show up.

And if we want to get better at something? That means changing ourselves in some way.

But change—even change for the better—triggers something primal. That ancient survival mechanism buried deep in our brains doesn’t care whether a new version of you is better. It only cares whether it’s safe. You’re still going to have to learn how to survive as that new version—and that takes work.

It also takes perspective, and that’s hard to come by. You’ve been you your entire life, but you’ve never actually seen yourself. Not in person. You’ve never stood face to face with yourself. (Weird, right?) Even if you have a twin, that’s them—not you. You’re also the only person you’ve ever been with 100% of the time, so maybe it’s worth making that relationship a good one.

So how do we gain perspective?
How do we get that rare, powerful clarity we seem to have when solving other people’s problems?

Here’s one way: try the Swan Song Exercise.

For those who’ve seen Swan Song, starring Mahershala Ali, this will sound familiar. The basic premise: you’ve just been diagnosed with a terminal illness. No one else knows—not yet. But medical technology can create your clone—the hardware, not the software. It’s up to you to teach the clone how to be you, so it can seamlessly step into your life without anyone noticing you’re gone.

Simple, right?

Not exactly. The Swan Song Exercise isn’t about legacy—it’s about honesty.

Your job is to train this clone. And you must do it well. Your loved ones can't know you’re gone. There’s no room for ego, no place for self-delusion. You have to become an observer of your own life. A teacher. A witness. A mirror.

The deeper you go, the more you’ll uncover.
The stories you cling to.
The rules you follow without realizing.
The pain you hide.
The patterns you protect.

Think you’re up for it?

Here are ten questions to get you started.

10 Questions to Begin Your Swan Song Exercise

1. What daily habits and routines would you need to meticulously teach your clone for others not to notice the switch?
2. What phrases, expressions, or verbal tics do you frequently use that your clone would need to adopt?
3. What personal stories or memories do you reference often that your clone would need to know intimately?
4. Which relationships in your life would be most challenging for your clone to maintain authentically, and why?
5. What are the unspoken rules you follow in different social contexts (work, family, friends) that your clone would need to understand?
6. What triggers your strongest emotional reactions, both positive and negative, that your clone would need to prepare for?
7. What are your core values and principles that guide your decision-making, especially in difficult situations?
8. What private struggles or doubts do you carry that your clone would need to convincingly portray?
9. What aspects of your personality do others value most that your clone absolutely must embody?
10. What would your clone need to understand about your relationship with yourself—your inner dialogue, self-criticism, or self-compassion?
    

If you really do the work, if you answer honestly, something strange might happen.

You may start to see yourself more clearly.
You may grieve parts of you that never got the care they needed.
You may forgive the version of you that was just trying to survive.

And you may realize the person worth becoming… isn’t your clone.

It’s the you who finally sees.

Until next time,

-Paul Michael