I believe it is fair to say that, the cultures of the Western world, are, generally, rather poor at acknowledging, discussing and embracing death. We celebrate life, all of the stages thereof, including some of the more esoteric and frankly, strange events that occur, but death does not receive the same treatment. Indeed, unless an individual is faced with it, either by choice through their job, for example, or through circumstance, there is a tendency towards actively avoiding it. It makes us uncomfortable, defensive and sometimes emotional. Has it always been this way? It would appear not. Around 600 years ago when the Black Plaque was running amuck, killing unfathomable numbers of folk, there came a book, followed swiftly by another, which described the way to die well. This was based on Christian teachings and there is much to be said about it, but it seems that when death was a real possibility each and every day, when it was simply unavoidable, discussing it, embracing it, and living with death was the norm.
What has changed?
Perhaps it is the advent of modern medicine and the advances both in expected health span and lifespan, but also the advancements in palliative medicine and the changes in the way we share information - that is to say, social media. We have perhaps come to expect much longer and healthier lives, with no real concern for most people, most of the time, for illness, or death. Moreover, when it does strike, there is perhaps a greater deal of faith that medicine will solve the issue. When it doesn’t? Well, it seems that’s when we turn to socials, and I would hazard a guess that most people don’t post the true ugly reality, but rather, the highlights, the bravery, and the occasional smiles. The rest gets shuffled to the back, ignored. It doesn’t sell well.
What are we left with?
A misguided conception of our own mortality, fragility and impending end. This seems grim, I know, but this is the reality. A reality we inherently accept for other organisms, but not for ourselves. This of course does make life just that little bit easier in the day to day. Ignorance is, as they say, bliss.
However, it’s a little like slowly walking backwards towards a cliff edge. Ultimately whether we face the cliff, or not, it is an inevitability that we will tumble over. At least until Brian Johnson figures out how to make a viewing platform and keep us all alive indefinitely. You may think that ignoring the cliff and simply living this way is better, perhaps you’re right, but the fall, I feel, is so much worse when we do not expect it, and stoic philosophers would likely agree. Stoics viewed death as a central part to living well and so met it, not with dread, but as a natural and inevitable part of life. Much of the teachings of ancient stoics focuses on embracing death as a constant companion, focusing on living with virtue and in the present, in order to live a more fulfilling life. This popularised the Latin phrase ‘Memento mori’, which translates to: ‘remember you must die’.
So what do we stand to gain from rediscovering our connection to death?
The phrase ‘absence makes the heart grow fonder’ is rather accurate. Only in the absence of something, or someone, unless we are mindful, do we usually consider just how much they, or it, meant to us. Often this only happens when loss is forced upon us. When we ignore the temporary nature of our existence, we forget that there will come a day when the people we enjoy being with, the people we love will one day not be there. The brief chat, or smile shared with an acquaintance, the slow meandering walks and discussions with a valued friend, or the stirring of love in our chest as we embrace those with love most. All of this can and will eventually be lost to the endless march of time, and when we are not cognisant of this, it is easy to live with our mind in the past, or the future. However, when we take a moment to remind ourselves that this could indeed be the very last time we experience this moment, then suddenly the present becomes all that there is. The senses are sharpened. The emotions heightened. Gratitude is cultivated. Anxieties are quelled. Imagining this loss, imaging death, is a form of negative visualisation, or premeditatio malorum (literally meaning premeditation of evils) a practice promoted by Stoicism. By truly envisioning a scenario we experience a taste of the emotions it would bring. Reflecting on this experience can bring all of the above and promote resilience too. It won’t stop the emotions when the time truly comes, of course, but it can make survival and recovery more likely. Though, another rather surprising benefit of this practice, is that we may find ourselves feeling less than we thought we would, too, perhaps revealing a truth otherwise hidden to us.
We need not keep these benefits to ourselves. Discussing death and the worst case can normalise such practices and conversations, which may then reduce anxiety and fear for others, too. We can deepen our connection to one another and reclaim some of the present from a world that more and more pushes us to live either in the future, past, or in the fantasy of a cultivated social media landscape. Moreover, through the experiences I have had as a medical doctor, I can also say that discussing death and planning for it, can significantly improve the care a person receives and ensures their death occurs, as far as is possible, in accordance with their wishes. Shying from these discussions often then results in crises, conflict and poor care. Attention is misspent and wasted during a period when time is all that really matters.
Whilst it may still seem an odd concept, in sum: Memento mori, remember you must die so that you may remember both to love (Memento amore) and to live (Memento vivere).
This essay is general information and reflection, not personal medical advice.
