I have been reading your blog for a few months now and so much of what you write resonates with me. I didn't grow up Quiverful or quite as fundamentalist as you did, but still very conservative Christian. We went to a megachurch in the DC area, and I was very active in the youth group. Then I studied abroad. Seeing other cultures, especially visiting Muslim countries, I realized everyone believed in their religion just as devoutly and began to think that maybe every religion was a different version of the same basic thing. Eventually, that gave way to atheism, which is where I am today. I appreciate you and your blog so much - thank you for sharing as much as you do.
The purpose of this email is really to reach out and ask you about something that has been troubling me for about 6 months now. I am having an existential crisis. How do you deal with death - mentally and emotionally?
I ignored it for the most part, but one night I was gripped with the realization that everyone will die. Obviously I knew that before, but I had not really grasped it. I have two little children so I think that makes the feeling even more raw. Ever since that night, I think about it often and it is really frightening to me. I kind of have the sensation of being in a plane that is slowly crashing. It is so morbid! I've talked to a few people about it, but no one really gets it - they either always thought nothing happened to us after death, or have always believed in heaven. How do you handle the reality of death - and the fact that it is permanent - after believing in the existence of God and heaven? How do you cope? I think this is something I just need to work through, and back in my Christian days, I had mentors and Bible study small groups that I could turn to with these kinds of things.
If you don't have time for this, I understand. You are just the person that came to mind when I wondered who I would be able to talk to about this.
--SamanthaJust today my husband and I were watching a video of prominent atheist authors talking about their views, and ninety-five-year-old Diana Athill was asked how she handles the prospect of death as an atheist. Her response? "I'm never afraid to fall asleep, I don't know why I'd be afraid of dying, it's really not any different." As an atheist, death is simply nonexistence. I wasn't bothered by not existing before I existed, so why should I should I be afraid of not existing after I die? Honestly, it sounds rather peaceful.
But Samantha makes an interesting point. Like me, she grew up with the expectation of eternal life. To go from believing that you will live forever in eternal bliss to the realization that you will cease to exist after you die can be rather jarring. One thing I realized early on is that wishing I could live forever doesn't make it so. It's like leading your whole life believing that you're some sort of lost princess or the heir to an obscure billionaire, and one day you'll be "discovered" and live a life of privilege and wealth. It doesn't matter how much you wish that were true, if it's not true it's not true. I see the idea of eternal life after death in the same way - it's mere wishful thinking, and while I understand its powerful appeal (who wouldn't want to live forever) that appeal does not make it real.
How have I handled this whiplash understanding of what will happen to me after I die? One thing I do, as mentioned above, is to remind myself that wishful thinking doesn't make something true. Wishing you lived in a fairy tail doesn't make it reality. And wishing for something we don't have, and can't have, well, that just distracts from what we do have and promises to make us discontent and unhappy. I may wish I was a billionaire, but I'm not, and spending my life wishing I was would make me overlook the economic security, prosperity, and happiness that I do have.
That all sounds rather harsh, though, doesn't it? Saying "eternal life doesn't exist so stop wishing it did" doesn't fix things. But there's a pleasant underside to this idea: I find that knowing I have but one life to live makes me want to live this life I have to the fullest. What is the point in holding grudges or focusing on small annoyances? If this is all I've got, I want to enjoy it while I'm here. This makes every moment I have with my husband, daughter, family, and friends especially precious and especially fraught with meaning. It makes me all the more likely to tell my husband and daughter that I love them, and to show them my love for them by overlooking the little things and focusing on the good. Weirdly, realizing this is all I have makes me a much more pleasant wife and mother than I might otherwise be, and makes me seek fulfillment in every little moment I have.
Another idea that comforts me is that of the "circle of life." After I die my body will break down and be assimilated back into the world to become something else. This world, with its trees, oceans, and animal life, will keep going after I'm gone. It is what lasts even as our lives end. Sometimes I like to go out into nature, surrounded by trees and grass and birds, and just feel that. Compared to millions and billions of years and the diversity and ever changing nature of life, our individual lives are really very insignificant. But we aren't just individuals, we are part of something bigger - an ecosystem, a world, a universe - the circle of life. And to me, that feels empowering.
Samantha mentioned her two young children. I understand that. I would hate to think of losing Sally. A friend of mine from growing up recently had a miscarriage, and she wrote on facebook that she was comforted by the fact that she will someday see her baby in heaven. If I lost Sally, I wouldn't have that comfort. Sally would just be . . . gone. It would be the end.
I deal with this in several ways. First, I remember that after death strikes there is one person not mourning, not feeling the pain of loss, not wondering how to go on with life, and that person is the one in the coffin. If I lost Sally, I would be the one who would be sad, not Sally. I might think of everything Sally never lived to do, but this wouldn't bother Sally. Sally would simply not exist, and would experience her nonexistence the way we do a deep dreamless sleep, just without ever waking up. Sally wouldn't mind being dead, because she wouldn't be. It would be I who would mind Sally being dead. If I were to lose Sally, I'd like to think that that understanding - that Sally was suffering no pain or regret - would comfort me.
Next, I try to make Sally's every moment here on this earth pleasant and worthwhile, knowing that she, like I, has but one life. If I ever were to lose her, I wouldn't want anything to regret. This helps me to be especially kind to her, especially involved in playing with her, and especially grateful for every moment I have with her. After all, if I did ever lose Sally, all I would have is the memories of our life together, and I'd like those memories to be pleasant and without regret.
Finally, I remember what I said earlier about the circle of life. Death is simply a part of life, no matter how much we may wish it wasn't. People die, people are born, and life goes on. Sally is just a part of that larger cycle, and that is something I have to accept.
But the fear we feel of death, or of losing someone we love, often isn't something that can be reasoned with. It's not necessarily a rational thing, it's a gut-level emotional thing. And so, Samantha, realize that what I've said here is simply how I try to understand and rationalize death. It may help your "existential crisis," and it may not. Sharing my thoughts is all I can do.
One thing that makes this sort of thing especially difficult for people like you and I is that, like I said before, we were raised to believe we would live forever. If we'd never been told those things, accepting that life is limited and will end would almost certainly be easier. It's sort of like the moment a child realizes Santa isn't real, except that the idea of eternal life is a whole not bigger than Santa. But just as in that case, holding onto the idea of Santa won't do any good. We have to grow up, accept reality, and move on. But saying that is easier than doing it.
I'd like to finish by offering some links with other atheists' points of view, and also by soliciting my atheist readers to offer their own suggestions and their own answers to Samantha's question.
How Atheists Deal with Death and Loss
An Atheist's Approach to Death
Grief Beyond Belief
I don't normally quote Richard Dawkins because he has a reputation that can be scary to new atheists and on-the-fencers, but his writing on death is just too beautiful not to share.
ReplyDeleteIn his writings on death, he argues that the problem is that we're focusing on death, and that we should instead focus on life: "We are going to die, and that makes us the lucky ones."
http://richarddawkins.net/articles/91-to-live-at-all-is-miracle-enough
To die, you must first be alive. You have been granted this amazing gift that billions upon billions of potential people will never have - you get to be alive. You get to laugh, to smile, to love, and to be loved... You get the opportunity to leave this world different than you entered it.
So instead of feeling sad about someday not being a part of this world, think instead about what you want to do with your opportunity. Instead of feeling sad about your loved ones dying someday, think instead of how lucky you are that they were born and that you got to know them.
Life is finite, and that's precisely what makes it so precious, and so worth living!
Definitely well-said! I was raised in what you might have called a "lukewarm" Christian family... or possibly getting chilly. We sometimes went to church for major holidays. I was told that people went to heaven when they died, etc. Eventually I realized that I was an atheist, although it took me a long time to work through all of the implications, such as life after death not making any sense. I considered the idea of reincarnation for a few years, but really...
ReplyDeleteOne place I found interesting information was on the Open Yale course, "Philosophy of Death".
I think that even beyond the fear of death, the concept of "The Meaning of Life" was the biggest issue I had to deal with. If you don't believe in the supernatural, then there can be no meaning imposed from the outside. You have to find your own meaning.
Beautifully said, Libby Anne!
ReplyDeleteAnother way to think about this is that we do live on after we die, just not in our physical forms. We live on in the memories of those who knew and loved us. We live on in the continuing existence of things we created, whether they be writings or art or physical objects or organizations or programs. We live on in the ideas that we have shared, the people we have influenced, and the actions we have taken. We live on in the children we raise or mentor. And so rather than on focusing on what will happen to me after my death, I focus on trying to leave a legacy that will outlast me. At least in some small ways, I hope that the world will be a different and better place because I lived in it. And as long as that is true, then death is more of a transition than an ending.
ReplyDelete"(who wouldn't want to live forever)"
ReplyDeleteMe! ^_^
With the death thing, I've been an atheist since I was about 8 years old, and I don't remember believing in heaven before that. (I've just remembered the first time I heard the word...) I've borrowed a line from Terry Pratchett to describe my attitude: "A man is not dead while his name is still spoken"
I don't have any concept of someone surviving their death, but as long as I remember the people I love they will be alive to me, in some way. Not spiritual, but alive in memory. The Cure did a song about that, called Where The Birds Always Sing...
I've come across similar questions and blog posts in the atheist blogosphere a few times recently. I find it interesting, because it's something I've never had any kind of 'existential crisis' with myself. Back when I was a (fundamentalist) christian, one of the things that freaked me out the most was the idea of eternal life. Even with all the great stories about heaven, I did not want to live forever (in heaven or hell). I wanted an option to opt out of it all and just die peacefully when my life was up. I still find the idea of life with no end in sight somehow repulsive.
ReplyDeleteThere are atheists really scared of death. I know it because I'm one of them. The idea of in one second to stop thinking (like I was asleep) but for forever, the disappearance of my personality... all of that is deeply scary for me and has been since I was a small child. I think I have a genetic predisposition (to pessimism and depression) because my mum who was brought up catholic thought like that too since she was a kid.
ReplyDeleteStudying Medicine, students have death in their minds frequently and this gave me the opportunity to quiz a good number of them about if they were scared of death, dying or growing old. It was incredibly eye opening for me at that moment to realise the vastly different concerns people had from being scared of dying in pain but not all of death to people preferring dead to being old and many many more possibilities of course. The fact was not one of us had exactly the same fears so of course a single answer wouldn't satisfy them. I'm still looking for an answer that will quell my fear of death but this fear doesn't change the way I live my life except to live it more fully so I guess it isn't all that bad.. now if only I could do something with my depressive nature XP
I hope I haven't been a party pooper because I'm still scared of death. Have a nice day everybody!!
As for being afraid of being dead(nonexistent), I have no issues. After all, once that happens, I won't even know that I'm dead, nor that I had ever lived. Subsequently, I won't be able to "miss" loved ones, have regrets, or stress over things I could have done better, etc. So, none of that.
ReplyDeleteThus, my fears aren't of "death", but of what leads up to it. Some of which fears are growing old and slowing becoming "invisible", and/or, contracting an incurable disease that would leave me merely existing with a low, or nonexistent, quality of life. For instance, that despicably horrible disease called cancer comes to mind, or something like Alzheimer's, by which I'd slowly be robbed of my personality to the point that I would no longer recognize loved ones whom I've known all my life. I'd much prefer to die in my sleep, drop dead of a heart attack, or get hit by a bus.
As for Samantha's letter, what I got out of it is that she's beyond(or is committed to going beyond) the whole "wishing it were true" stage. I think she wants to know where to go from there. If so, my advice would be similar in that case, which is, to make sure your loved ones know how you feel about them. Also, I'd suggest making sure those who are dependent on you right now are "set"(to the best of your ability) for life, should you die sooner than expected.
As for living forever in a perpetual state of never ending, unadulterated bliss, aside from finding this whole idea that my personality can live on after I die absurd and unbelievable, the thought that I'd be awake and self-aware 24/7 for all of eternity, alone, turns my stomach! And then there's boredom! No conflicts or anything to overcome, ever? Ick! In my view, such a state would eventually become a living "hell"('sorry, the word fits, here)
That we will simply cease to exist just like every other living organism is so much simpler, not to mention, it makes sooo much more sense, IMO.
Thx!
ReplyDeleteWhen my brother died at age 20, I contemplated reverting to e belief in an afterlife, but it just didn't feel true to me. He was cremated, and we put his ashes in a swamp where he liked to go--it had lots of wildlife, including treefrogs, alligators, turtles, and many other animals he loved. I felt comforted knowing that his body became part of the life of the swamp, and when I go there, I feel that he is present in the rich plant life and the animals there. That experience helped me to see death as a normal, if sad, part of life. I have children too, and when it comes to their deaths, honestly, I try not to think about it at all. I don't think any kind of afterlife would make me feel any better about losing one of my children. A rabbi friend of mone once said, "Having a child is the sudden realization that one truck can destroy your life." My children are teens now, and I don't think that feeling will ever change. But death as a general concept, I think I can hold peacefully as part of the natural progression of the world.
ReplyDeleteThe thing that scares me about my mum dying is not that she is gone.. she ceases to exist...... it's that there was the possibility (and I will never know) that she was trapped inside her body and wanted to communicate but couldn't and died frustrated and angry and upset. It scares me that she might have felt sad that she wasn't going to be able to see me get married, or see her future grandchildren, to grow old with my dad... it kills me that she might have had regrets that she couldn't tell me about.... I keep picturing her stuck inside a glass box and screaming, but no one can hear her and they just walk by. It gives me nightmares. Death does not scare me. Living without fulfillment scares me.
ReplyDeleteGeorge Hrab has a beautiful song about losing the ones we love and about his own experience with grief, "Small Comfort".
ReplyDelete"I’m glad I get to miss you
but that you can never miss me"
http://youtu.be/Ubs0QqnxMN8