“Let us prepare our minds as if we’d come to the very end of life. Let us postpone nothing. Let us balance life’s books each day. … The one who puts the finishing touches on their life each day is never short of time.” —Seneca
What does it mean to live and die well?
One of my favorite living philosophers, Kieran Setiya, asks this question in a lot of his work. He also makes the distinction between what it means to live well and how this is different than mere happiness or the absence of negative emotions.
I am a strong believer that the desire to personally avoid negative emotions is not a goal that will bring us true well-being. I see having a whole-picture view of our impact on the world as a more urgent way of living well and feeling good about our impact when we say farewell.
One of the most powerful ways to live well is to consider our death honestly. This means facing fear (a negative emotion). Many global thought systems and practices do this beautifully. Maranasati, a series of meditations, comprise the Buddhist practice of focusing on death with awareness.
Some of the visual prompts in Maranasati meditations can be quite intense (imagine the body decaying, for instance). In the Nine Contemplations on Death, many such concepts are looked at squarely. But as uncomfortable as imagining our death sounds, the driving force of such practices is, paradoxically, a powerful mechanism for gaining new appreciation for every living breath. In other words, for experiencing life. Fully. Completely.
The Stoics contemplated similar ideas. “Memento Mori,” meaning to live with a remembrance of death, is another reminder to cultivate respect for the short time we have in this physical form.
The phrase is attributed to Socrates, and it's become a touch cliche. I’ve seen it reflected in everything from forearm tattoos to an HR employee’s email signature line. But pop usage doesn’t detract from the truth of sentiment. The true message: find meaning in everything. Every thing. We're not here forever. We can only create and share so much.
Many more cultural and religious explorations on death range from it being considered a portal to magical lands of judgment, good and bad, or a transition to another form. It could be a ticket to bliss or pain.
"Just as when we come into the world, when we die we are afraid of the unknown. But the fear is something from within us that has nothing to do with reality. Dying is like being born: just a change." ― Isabel Allende
From a scientific perspective, death is about going from consciousness to organic matter that can, in the right conditions, provide the earth with ample nitrogen that helps other lifeforms grow.
Whatever your belief, embracing the inevitability of death can be a lifestyle, and it doesn't have to feel depressing or uncomfortable. Nor does accepting death need only be for people who want an excuse for hedonism.
Death, ultimately, is a solo journey. An inevitable solo journey. Even if you’re surrounded by others, you make the transition alone. If this scares you, hey, you’re human. But behind this fear lives the ultimate ability to create beauty.
And this close examination can support everyone, from people with terminal illnesses in accepting their mortality to those with severe anxiety. It is a way of confronting the dragon (so to speak) and realizing it is not coming after you but is, instead, a companion. Possibly, an empowering one.
Death awareness can put petty desires and silly worries in perspective. It can make a peach taste sweeter or a hug feel more like an exchange. Whether death feels close or far away, these practices can make everything brighter.
“You could leave life right now. Let that determine what you do and say and think.” -Marcus Aurelius
So while most of us don’t want to talk about it, and I get that, I think we should. We should remind ourselves that this time here and now is a gift.
We’re all just shooting stars here on Earth.
Below is a practice that will illustrate what I mean here. It's a gentle way to contemplate the process of death by reflecting on our material awareness. On the other side of this contemplation, which might be tough for some, is invigoration, gratitude, beauty, awe . . . and on, and on. What's on the other side is life.
Writing prompt(s):
Write a story in which death is the protagonist.
AYTL prompt: Today’s post is laser-focused on the AYTL experiment because while self-awareness, creativity, and evaluation are important in our daily lives, ultimately, the thing we’re doing with this experiment is remembering we’re going to die.
If this post wasn’t too much for you, and you were able to schedule 7 minutes to try this meditation, my challenge is to do this practice and then write about your experience.
And if you share here, I’d love to know how it went.
If you enjoy this blog and stories, please let me know by subscribing, responding below, or sharing what you are inspired by with attribution. In gratitude, Jen
Jen- I generally disregard writing prompts, but in the spirit of AYTL I couldn't ignore this one.
Equilibrium
Death doesn’t always wear a cloak.
This morning she sits in sartorial comfort,
cross-leggedly mindful in her lululemon bodysuit,
fit as a ninja under the backyard ficus,
its wide fiddle leaves billow in the breeze. She taunts,
like the promise of our first puppy love, our fear of missing out.
Death steals the playtime of childhood, cuckolds me
while kidnapping everyone I love, forever. She’s jealous
of her twin, Birth, the fountain that springs life. Death vows
destruction of all. She recalls
the pause before time explodes in infinite suns. Death wonders,
will the work ever be complete. For every life she captures, more
approach, Hydra-like. Flesh rots and composts
and balances life with renewal.
The more the reality of death gets closer, the more at ease I am with it. My mother used to say that "death was a part of llfe." Probably a more accessible, practical version of "Momento Mori," I believe. And in the end, death is unavoidable, so maybe we should stop fearing it and see it as the next or final chapter, whichever way our beliefs take us.