As humans we abhor death as a rule. Almost every death hurts someone, and often enough, many people. In some cases the death of another is the shaping event of our lives. And fear of death shapes all of us to some extent.
We have ways of mourning this ultimate loss. Words we say to the bereaved. And as much as they may seem like mere social conventions, these words are much more than that. They say: we understand your pain. Everyone goes through this. All things die...you and I are both part of the great unending chain.
So, if death universally brings pain, shouldn't immortality be a blessing?
The answer, clearly, is no. It would be a nightmare. How would a world without death even work? If this were always the state of affairs, we would not be here. The world would have filled up in two or three generations, assuming that the deathless state applied only to humans.
And how would it work to produce children anyhow? Would they just grow to some mythical prime and then stop? Or would aging have to continue with no escape?
Which means we must accept death with grace because there are only two paths, and the path of immortality is worse. Most people understand this intuitively. We know we are links in a long chain. Not an infinite chain, but one that stretches back in time beyond our ability to imagine it. And forward in our imaginations for years beyond counting. Which is what makes gazing into the abyss of human extinction so deeply disturbing.
We accept death because we must. We accept it with grace because we know parts of us will carry on—either in the form of DNA or the works we leave behind. It is the natural order to want better for our children. Death only magnifies this. It is a pillar of a meaningful life. Extinction destroys all meaning. And breaks the unending chain.
I have heard people say, in our current dystopia, that humans deserve to die off, and that cockroaches will survive. I cannot entertain the profound cynicism this entails. I will instead be imagining young lovers a thousand years hence, dancing below the same moon I danced beneath, when I was young.
When I was around six years old my family was in a cabin on a mountain lake. (Lake Arrowhead). I got a very high fever. I remember when I woke up – my mother came over and asked me if I knew how long I’d been out. I did not know – she told me a day and a half. She handed me my brother’s Red Rider comic book. I was thrilled to have it – though I couldn’t really read all of the words – just some.
Anyway here’s the interesting part. When I was under this incredibly high fever I entered a gray void – fog like place. I was floating and started moving through the void going faster and faster. As I was doing this my body became smaller and smaller. I was losing my body. The best part was that I was in a complete state of bliss. I remember that in this dream state I was very disappointed when it ended. I did not want it to end.
When I was nineteen I read the Tibetan Book of the Dead and it stated that the before entering the new existence there would be a gray void like place. I was only six years old, so I didn’t have any preconceived ideas about all of this.
Maybe because of this experience I am not afraid of death at all.