Living Is Not Not Dying

“Because children have abounding vitality, because they are in spirit fierce and free, therefore they want things repeated and unchanged. They always say, "Do it again"; and the grown-up person does it again until he is nearly dead. For grown-up people are not strong enough to exult in monotony. But perhaps God is strong enough to exult in monotony. It is possible that God says every morning, "Do it again" to the sun; and every evening, "Do it again" to the moon. It may not be automatic necessity that makes all daisies alike; it may be that God makes every daisy separately, but has never got tired of making them. It may be that He has the eternal appetite of infancy; for we have sinned and grown old, and our Father is younger than we.” 

― G. K. Chesterton, Orthodoxy

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Dear Kate,

Choose life, because death just kinda happens.  A life that "just happens" isn't happening.

I hear a protest: We need to do what we need to do, don't we?  Without routines and duties life is not possible.  Much of life is really about just having things happen to us.

Of course.  But only we can tell if our habits and responsibilities are for the flourishing of life, not a concession to death.  Tasks and chores, they can be the best tranquilizers to our heart's murmur, do you agree?  How can our necessary burdens be endless if life is not?

I think deep down many of us are lying to ourselves about death.  By perpetuating what we call the necessities of life we are really denying the possibility of death, asking her to hold off for another day.  I can't die just yet!  Who's going to take care of everything if I die now?  The world is going to stop if I am to die today!  I shall die if I don't have enough money for retirement!  Blatant and vulgar lies, but true enough to us that we don't even have to tell them with so many words; they are the dogmatic assumptions of a lying dying Man.

Another protest I hear: Aren't children, the most lively among us, just kinda let life happen?

Really?  Have you ever seen a child jumping off bed in the morning to seize a day?  If there ever is a person who chooses life, makes life happen, it is a child.  She might be care-free, but she is not care-less.  She cares so much about living that she just couldn't wait.  She doesn't contemplate on the possibility of hope.  She simply trusts there is and goes right ahead to realize it.

Not too long ago I read a study, one that is like many others, with the researchers trying to prove what they think must be true.  The study attempted to show even a brand-newborn is susceptible to depression and mental illness, right out of womb.  And the point is?  We are vulnerable.  We are dying the moment life starts.  As if we can do something about it.

Of course something can be done about it.  Something will be done about it the moment a person is enlivened with a vision of human flourishing.  And that moment wouldn't come when the right treatments are prescribed, the proper procedures carried out, the beneficial adjustments pulled off: all these would only hold death at bay, if even that.  Living is not not dying.

I wasn't thinking about writing today but life wouldn't take No from me.  I write because I am happy to write, even when I write about sad things, things that make me angry, things that deny the possibility of hope.  To not write is to concede to death, that wrongs are winners, frivolousness is fine, apathy A-OK.

I do look forward to you writing again.  Just a little, once in a while.  You have nothing to proclaim that is not somehow claimed by some pros already, nothing profound to tell me.  Life itself is the biggest profundity, and a writer couldn't help but try to capture a little bit of it with words, however clumsily.  Every condition we give ourselves can be a concession, maybe even a coverup, a coup of death to overtake life, a silent assassin on a mission of mercy killing, putting our longings to bed, as if that settles the matter.

Do not go gentle into that good night.

Yours, Alex