It has been more than a year since I began writing in earnest about death and dying. ( If you missed those posts, you can read them HERE ) Writing about death and dying revealed the wisdom of planning to die well. Accordingly, I committed to develop a plan to die well. This post is a report on my “Dying Well Plan”
The dying part of my plan is progressing well. For octogenarians the process of dying is often tenuous and unpredictable. Thankfully that is not yet my experience. I have a number of maladies that could quickly alter my mostly comfortable journey. Each day requires vigilance to avoid pitfalls which could change life’s circumstances.
—“People who want to die well must be willing to confront their finitude.”
When we avoid thoughts of death, we unconsciously assume that tomorrow will look a lot like today, so we can do tomorrow what we could do today. But when we focus on death, that increases the stakes at play in the present, and clarifies what we should do with our time.
https://www.theatlantic.com/ideas/archive/2023/05/death-memento-mori-happiness/674158
If you insist on ignoring your own demise, you are likely to make decisions that cause you to sleepwalk through life. You may not be dead yet, but you’re not fully alive either.
Confronting one’s finitude is key to dying well and is, in my opinion, the least challenging step. Developing a “Dying Well Plan” inherently directs one’s attention to their mortality.
Daily life as an octogenarian is rife with reminders. i.e. —Lots of prescription medicine—Looking in the mirror each morning—doctor appointments— Walks through the cemetery—frequent naps—funerals—”senior moments”—Diminished competence …to name a few.
Those and many other experiences serve as memento mori (“Remember! You will die!”). What is different today is not that daily life has changed drastically, but I am now paying attention rather than ignoring or denying reality. In that regard I am reaping helpful benefits:
…death is not something to be denied, avoided, or even begrudgingly accepted. Death makes the expanse of a lifetime finite and therefore precious. Death is like the gilded frame that gives definition to our living days. It’s the built-in counterbalance that throws all beauty and goodness and aliveness into greater relief.
Katherine Wolf
I can honestly say that confronting my mortality is making me feel more fully alive. It is a work in progress.
There is a tendency to think of developing a dying well plan as an exercise for older or elderly persons. That is a fallacy.
Dying well is contingent upon living well. Living well is a project that spans our entire life.
When we avoid thoughts of death, we unconsciously assume that tomorrow will look a lot like today, so we can do tomorrow what we could do today. But when we focus on death, that increases the stakes at play in the present, and clarifies what we should do with our time.1https://www.theatlantic.com/ideas/archive/2023/05/death-memento-mori-happiness/674158/
Greeks thought about death as a matter of routine. Socrates taught that the principal goal of philosophers is to rehearse for dying and death. The ancient Hebrews agreed. Qohelet, the “Teacher” of Hebrew scripture, instructs his listeners to remember their God while they are young, “before the days of trouble come, and the years draw near when you will say, ‘I have no pleasure in them’ . . . and the dust returns to the earth as it was, and the breath returns to God who gave it.” Prepare now, the Teacher says, for to dust you will return.2The Lost art of Dying – Dugdale
I an increasingly convinced that memento mori (“Remember! You will die!”) should be an integral part of the church’s liturgy. Those of us in the West today will fail to die well if we refuse to acknowledge that we are finite creatures.
Teach us to number our days, that we may gain a heart of wisdom.
Ps. 90:12
More to Come.
STILL ON THE JOURNEY
- 1
- 2The Lost art of Dying – Dugdale
I’m glad you’re back on this topic George. Life can change in a second. And we DO expect tomorrow to be like today. I think it is remarkable how Christians avoid ideas of human bodily death. I’ve been at funerals where the first thing said is, “so and so is not dead! She is more alive than ever.’ It was not helpful to me.