Life, Death,
and Voluntary Simplicity
by Douglas Bing
“Throughout the whole of life one must continue to learn how to live and, what will amaze you even more, dear friends, throughout life one must continue to learn how to die” — Seneca, 4BC – 65AD
As we are getting set to enter the new millennium, with the inherent suggestions of beginnings and endings, what more appropriate way but with a quote from the early first millennium? In a sense, Seneca is acknowledging that one fact about life has changed very little: namely, that we die. But how do we die? Better yet, how do we learn how to live? In many ways I feel very comfortable writing this piece for HopeDance. After all, I have been involved in Hospice work for eight years now and have written several manuals on the subject, as well as giving countless presentations on grief and bereavement. I also am very interested in the concept of voluntary simplicity and in challenging cultural mores and values, such as consumerism and the denial of death. Yet on another level, I feel somewhat inadequate and unprepared, because I feel that whatever I am going to write will be presumptuous on how one should deal with death, grieve, or — the kicker — how someone should live.
I don’t know how you should live your life or what a good death is for you, but what I do feel that I have learned from working with many, many people who have catastrophic illnesses is that we very often go through life denying our mortality, not always evaluating what we want to do with our lives, and living in a “consensual trance” that opts for security and compliance over mindfulness. It is often only in the face of one’s own mortality that people express gratefulness for what they have, enjoying the moments. Regardless, I am still humbled by the idea of what I would do if diagnosed with a terminal illness.
Although I’d be searching for the proper reference for awhile, you know, “The knowing is in the not knowing”, or perhaps a Sufi tale would pepper the message with an abstract story communicating the mystery of life and death, there is no way to live your life or your death that necessarily makes it “good.” Sure, we can make choices in our lives that are moral, ethical, responsible – to “live in integrity” as they say. But the bottom line is that we have to make those choices individually, and what might be a healthy way for me might not fit for you.
But this is HopeDance magazine – the zine that attempts to talk about mindfulness and living in integrity. How does voluntary simplicity fit with our cultural denial of death? Simply put, death is a part of life and connects us to all living things. It is a part of our nature and to deny it is to deny our inner nature – a core part of our existence. Similarly, on a material level, people use denial with outer nature as well. For example, some people deny that there is any threat in global warming, landfills, or consumerism because we will “figure out a way to fix it.” In approaching death, many believe (consciously or not) that if they talk about it they just might catch it. Therefore, why obsess on it; can’t we just enjoy ourselves without thinking about dying, or heaven forbid, recycling? One of my initial awakenings working with Hospice was sitting in on a meeting with other professionals as we worked as a team with a dying individual. This elderly man was described as “angry” and “fitful”; one of the team members recommended upping the patient’s anti-depressant. Knowing the man and his frustrations in life, and his irritation over losing control, I inquired about whether the counselor had spoken with him about this. She replied, “I’ve witnessed hundreds of deaths, and patients benefit from these medications!” That was one of my biggest lessons – this counselor was, perhaps unconsciously, distancing herself from feeling the loss, just as she was asking a physician to mask the pain with medication. And, this was a person involved with Hospice! Although I certainly left that experience feeling somewhat judgmental and disappointed, upon reflection I could identify with the defense mechanism, common to most of us. It’s difficult to be conscious all the time, especially about factors in our lives that take a little work. As, for instance, thinking about recycling or our deaths. After all, we have other considerations: such as our jobs, bills, eating, consuming, sleeping, creating, etc. How many of us really have time to accomplish these tasks, let alone contemplate deeper issues like the effects on the environment — or our own mortality?
We have to be in denial about some things in our lives; we just can’t possibly take on everything that needs fixing in the world. We read in the paper about an earthquake in the Far East and we may not feel a connection, so we turn the page on that tragedy. Yet we read that someone has escaped from CMC and abducted someone, and we’re scared and incensed. Why the difference? Is there a comparison in the thousands dead and one abduction? Of course there is: the latter threatens our personal sense of security. It’s natural to understand ourselves as organisms doing whatever we can to survive; the closer something is to a threat, generally, the more we react. Fortunately, in our privledged culture, disasters and egregious threats are less frequent. Furthermore, we are pushed with a strong socio-economic tradition to win, to accomplish, to succeed, to accumulate. This strong sense of individualism breeds a narcissism that lends itself to a rather solipsistic state.
Therefore, we generally distance ourselves from things that threaten our sense of security. This distancing can occur in many ways: workaholism, consumerism, sexaholism, alcoholism, anxiety, isolation or panic. In some cases, the individuals who experience these symptoms seek psychotherapy to deal with their addiction or anxiety. But the problem may lie even deeper: death anxiety. As the existential psychologist Irv Yalom has written: “Time is an enemy not only because it is cousin to finitude but also because it threatens one of the supports of the delusion of specialness: the belief that one is eternally advancing. The workaholic must deafen himself or herself to time’s message: that the past grows fatter at the expense of a shrinking future.”
How do we blend our eternal uniqueness with the spiritual principle of our being connected with all other living things? On the one hand, we feel and enjoy the idea that we are different and unique, yet similar and connected. On a psychological level our sense of connectedness applies to our existence in what Yalom describes as our “specialness”: we’re not going to die, because we’re different. On the other hand, we strive to postpone death by being successful in society, by reproducing biologically with offspring, and creatively, through works of art.
As my work with Hospice has continued, I have benefited by the constant reminder of, as one adolescent referred to it, the “D” word – death. In fact, I think there is a great deal of freedom in acknowledging it, as Carlos Castaneda learned to use “death as an advisor.”
In the last two years, I have moved from viewing Hospice itself as a segregated arena that deals with death, to an integrated agency that deals with quality of life. That has been my biggest lesson: agreeing with what Seneca said about the parallel between living and dying. As another profound thinker, by the name of Freud, said, “If you want to endure life, prepare yourself for death.”
If you choose to slow down and stop the rollercoaster of consumerism you may have to face your own personal death anxiety. Yet that can possibly be your opening to living a more conscious, fulfilling life.
Douglas Bing, is a licensed Marriage, Family Therapist in private practice and the Program Coordinator for Hospice of SLO. His work has been based on the existential perspective. He can be reached at Hospice at 544-2266.
