Mortality
Fear does not prevent death. It prevents life. (a Buddhist proverb)
I’ve been thinking about mortality. Less about my own and more about that of a friend who has a terminal cancer diagnosis, that of a daughter who died young, that of a brother who has advanced dementia.
As Mitch Albom wrote in Tuesdays with Morrie, “Aging is not just decay, you know. It’s growth. It’s more than the negative that you are going to die. It’s also the positive that you understand you that you are going to die, and that you live a better life because of it.”
Must we wait for a diagnosis that indicates that an end of our life is near to embrace this notion of reflecting on how we have chosen to live and what remains unfinished for us?
“What will you do with your one wild and precious life?” wrote Mary Oliver, in her poem titled The Summer Day. This line is often quoted as inspiration to not wait, to live life to its fullest now, to reflect on what you might be glad you did when you do find yourself at the end of your life.
These notions are not new. Yet, they are powerful to revisit. I have a friend who grieves for his wife who died two and half years ago. He called me this morning, on the anniversary of their wedding. We don’t talk often, but he knows me as a compassionate person who has also suffered a great loss. He knew I would understand what he was feeling. We talked about living with loss. We talked about some of what we do that brings us joy: travel, spending time with our adult children, our friendships. I am making art and writing; he is looking for an antique car to fix up. We are pursuing some of our dreams. We attempt to balance our grief with joy.
Grief and loss, anticipating loss, reflecting on one’s own mortality…this work becomes more frequent as we age. The older we become, the more losses we experience. The older we become, the closer to our own death we become.
Do you have a bucket list? Places you want to travel to? People you want to see again? Art you want to make? Subjects you want to learn more about? Stories you have thought about telling or writing for those you will leave behind when you go? Do you have ideas of how you might want to live differently? Areas of your personality you might want to tweak?
Food for thought, all of this. It’s a rainy day here in Vermont, and I am feeling reflective, especially after that morning conversation. I will go out soon, to meet another friend for a drink, a friend who has recently returned from living and teaching in Rome for a year, despite being in her 60s and single. She is adventurous, an excellent role model. She loves to say, “Life is to be lived!” I couldn’t agree more.
Well written Ann.
The image of your print is stunning and speaks so eloquently to this post, Ann. My daughter-in-law teases me that my favorite subject is aging and dying with grace. She lost a younger sister, so she already knows the weight of loss and the necessity of living with joy.