First I need to become a billionaire to pull this off, but I have a similar "back-to-nature" funeral wish.
Some time after my death, carefully-selected friends, family and colleagues are offered large inheritances conditional upon their completion of a "primal health retreat" program. They are told that all inheritances are equal and do not change based on how many people complete the program; all withheld inheritances are donated to an Effective Altruism organization.
Over the course of three months on a small island in the tropics, the potential heirs receive optimal nutrition, physical training, psychedelic therapy, martial arts, natural survival skills, etc. from the most respected practitioners available. Despite the luxurious quality of care and instruction, the challenges are grueling, and it's almost certain that some individuals will drop out or be medically disqualified.
But for those that stay, spirits should be consistently high. Even after a week into the 15-day fast preceding their graduation from the program, most will be cheerfully looking forward to the feast promised to be available during my funeral ceremony taking place promptly thereafter. They find themselves more truly awake, more truly aware--more truly alive--than they've ever been before. In appreciating the structure and discipline my incentivizing has given them, an almost-messianic level of gratitude develops towards me. They unanimously acknowledge it, and implicitly agree to keep in check so things don't get too weird while everyone's under the influence of the fast.
Upon the first hour of the last day, per their instructions, the staff find the usual boat docked on the far end of the island. They meet no one there but decide to politely depart, taking with them all tools and supplies not rendered by their students' own hands, proud in knowing that they leave them stronger than they were likely ever to become without their hard-earned expertise. Chatter is light on the way back to the mainland, somber smiles transforming to curious frowns as reverential remarks about the funeral they're leaving behind are followed by benign speculations about the strong stench of bleach wafting up from the deck between gusts of salty air, the sputtering of the engine despite a completely full tank gauge, and the fact that none of their electronics are working.
Meanwhile my corpse has been fed to 10 hungry pigs, which were then fed to 100 hungrier pigs, which 10 bears systematically competed for while being trained by a seclusive troupe of Romanian circus performers wanted on human-trafficking charges. They are now all on the island, with no more preparations left to make--just the simplest directive a rich fool ever gave man or beast.
Because the magic of automation doesn't require them to initiate the camera/loudspeaker/drone system that lets everyone know none the lawyers were real, all of the money was spent on this elaborate bullshit, whoever gets on the boat that comes by in three months will own the rights to all the footage that will be automatically uploaded to it.
"Oh, and the carnies don't speak much English, so good luck telling them there's no money. And you're welcome, because I'm not going to say that there's a high-powered rifle buried at the top of one of three points of elevation on the island in Romanian for another thirty seconds. Most of them are pretty fast climbers, though." ROAR "Well, all of them really..."
LegalZoom can help guide you and your loved ones through the difficult but necessary conversations about end-of-life plans. Being poorly prepared might result in unnecessary confusion and dispute during a time of tremendous grief. LegalZoom can't guarantee your loved one won't become super rich and pull some advanced 'Game of Heirs' fuckery, but showing that you care early on with the appropriate amount of planning might keep you off their shitlist once their brain starts going. LegalZoom is not a law firm, and also isn't affiliated with any of this in any way. But they paid a whole lot of money to make sure I don't forget their fucking name, or snippets of their fucking copy, until the day I die, whether I file my end-of-life documents through them or not. LegalZoom: With our help, the bureaucracy is still extremely difficult to deal with; but if you were too poor to afford our service, you wouldn't even be trying. Speaking of which, I am procrastinating so hard right now