The Nature of Death

There are many ways to look at life and death.  I subscribe with the notion that even in the strongest relationships, participants are expendable on some marginal level.

What I mean by this is that when a loved one dies the worst thing one can possibly do is spend the remainder of their life in regret, in seclusion, or in mourning.  What's important is not that they are no longer physically there, but that they have made a lasting impression on who and what you have become as a person.

There is more to life than who we are, it's who we've interacted with, the memories and stories we've shared, it's what we've done or left behind.  We all leave our own little legacies after we're gone.  The question is what shall follow?  The possibilities are infinite (which is both an exciting and a terrifying prospect).

This essentially describes my notion of being "expendable."  The fact that an emotional bond has been severed forever is tragic, but one must look towards the powerfully emergent nature of things that pass in and out of this world.  To focus on what used to be is the same as mourning the loss of the dinosaurs.  But without their extinction, mammals would have never had their shot.  We wouldn't be here to have these philosophical discussion on the nature of life and death (as Paul Grobstein mentions in his blog).  Though this is an overly simplified example, it does send the message that the impact of a single life is immeasurably variable.  So in response to the loss of a loved one, it's important to remember that the focus should not be on the death itself, but on the impact of their life on others.

I have learned a lot from the stories and memories told of the departed.  They bring them back to life in ways that are immeasurable and unforgettable.  And that is an astonishing achievement in itself.