Reminder – You will die 4
I have gotten into the habit of tweeting “Reminder: You will die” at least once every few weeks. Some people think it is funny. Some others think it is morbid. To me, death is a great motivating force. I wrote about it in my old blog once. Here’s that post once more.
There is this thing we all know. It might just be the only thing we are all certain about. We think, we hope and we plan to the best of our capacity. And yet, nearly all of it is rooted in chance. The only thing that will happen for sure is that we will all die.
Is that why we don’t talk about it? Because we are sure it will come? The way I see it, it appears more a case of denial. We refuse to talk about it, we fear signs of ageing, we even presume we are safe and secure in our environments! We refuse to consider the possibility that we might just drop off the edge of a cliff one day — tomorrow maybe — and never return.
Death therefore, becomes this dark inevitability — the end of everything good and worthwhile. Fear is the only emotion that comes to be associated with it.
A few years ago, I saw my grandmother die scared. Her last years were spent in anger and worry. She fretting over her medicines, pitied herself. She passed away with her eyes wide open, staring into the world she so desperately wanted to hold on to.
Her death wasn’t untimely. She had had a long and eventful life. Her youngest grandchild, that is me, was in college when her final illness started. Yet, there was no peace. Whether we look away from it, or thrash about frantically when it is at the door, our fear of dying is unreasonable.
We believe that our lives will follow a template. There is the modest beginning (birth, education, growing up), a significant middle (professional life, making money, gathering possessions, finding a partner, having children and raising them) and the inevitable end (old age and death).
Growing old and dying is a lucrative proposition indeed. But expecting it to actually happen is like betting. Living the template above also involves living in denial of the truth that is death for a major chunk of one’s life.
The problem with the template is that it prompts you to postpone things you love to a fabled ‘content’ part of your life. ‘I have always wanted to paint. I will take it up when I have made enough money,’ or ‘I will write my novel when I have settled down in life.’ When do we settle down? When do we ever call ourselves content? When do we stop preparing to live our lives and start living it? We sure as hell don’t have forever, and we know it. The idea is simply unaffordable.
It is a small wonder then, that after a lifetime spent just ‘surviving’, we can greet death with little more than fear. A good life is much more than just surviving.
A couple of months ago, when I decided to quit my job to write my book, friends and family asked me if I wasn’t scared about my future. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. I was shit-scared. Scared that I would die without even having started on my first book (and I intend to write quite a few).
My attitude may appear pessimistic or paranoid to you. I see it as quite the opposite. I see death and am aware of it. It is around. It will take me when it feels like it. There will be no warning. But that is not what I am afraid of. What strikes fear into my heart is the possibility that I will lose sight of death and I will wander aimlessly and while away my time. Then one day death will come around and it will be my time to go. I don’t want to go without having told a single good story. Maybe I will go with death kicking and screaming, begging him/her to let me tell at least one more story. Even so, at least I would have tried.
The idea is not to be afraid of death, because honestly, it wouldn’t help. We ought to treat death as a reality — unpredictable and inevitable. That would let us cherish the years, months, days and moments before it even more. Life is for living, and death is truth.