"What?" I say to myself; "does death so often test me? Let it do so; I myself have for a long time tested death."
"When?" you ask.
Before I was born. Death is non-existence, and I know already what that means. What was before me will happen again after me. If there is any suffering in this state, there must have been such suffering also in the past, before we entered the light of day. As a matter of fact, however, we felt no discomfort then.
And I ask you, would you not say that one was the greatest of fools who believed that a lamp was worse off when it was extinguished than before it was lighted? We mortals also are lighted and extinguished; the period of suffering comes in between, but on either side there is a deep peace.
For, unless I am very much mistaken, my dear Lucilius, we go astray in thinking that death only follows, when in reality it has both preceded us and will in turn follow us. Whatever condition existed before our birth, is death. For what does it matter whether you do not begin at all, or whether you leave off, inasmuch as the result of both these states is non-existence?
"When?" you ask.
Before I was born. Death is non-existence, and I know already what that means. What was before me will happen again after me. If there is any suffering in this state, there must have been such suffering also in the past, before we entered the light of day. As a matter of fact, however, we felt no discomfort then.
And I ask you, would you not say that one was the greatest of fools who believed that a lamp was worse off when it was extinguished than before it was lighted? We mortals also are lighted and extinguished; the period of suffering comes in between, but on either side there is a deep peace.
For, unless I am very much mistaken, my dear Lucilius, we go astray in thinking that death only follows, when in reality it has both preceded us and will in turn follow us. Whatever condition existed before our birth, is death. For what does it matter whether you do not begin at all, or whether you leave off, inasmuch as the result of both these states is non-existence?
—from Seneca, Moral Letters 54
I believe Mark Twain once made a similar argument, reminding us how the most humorous sayings are oftentimes also the wisest sayings. After all, death should hardly worry me, since I have already spent such a vastness of time without existing, so returning back to insensibility would therefore be nothing new.
Broadening my perspective, to include what I had previously overlooked, tends to be momentarily jarring, though it has always done me good in the long run. What once seemed so big and imposing, is now so small and trivial. The intensity of pain or anxiety right here and now will fade as soon as I consider the bigger picture. It not only passes, it passes so very quickly when contrasted to the scale of the whole.
I no longer fret so much over the prospect of any afterlife, not because I arrogantly choose to deny it, but because I do not presume to be the one who will make the call. If Providence has something in store for my future, I will gladly accept it, trusting full well that she knows what is best. I also wish to avoid the temptation of demanding or expecting any further reward for my efforts at living according to Nature. A son should not impose his terms upon the father.
Since all change is ultimately a transformation, I am content with either becoming food for the worms or with some sort of continuation of consciousness, whatever that might be. I certainly should not think that an ending is in any way contrary to existence, or that reverting to nothing means I was never something, or, more properly, someone. In its service to the whole, the part is made to come and to go as it is needed.
I believe Mark Twain once made a similar argument, reminding us how the most humorous sayings are oftentimes also the wisest sayings. After all, death should hardly worry me, since I have already spent such a vastness of time without existing, so returning back to insensibility would therefore be nothing new.
Broadening my perspective, to include what I had previously overlooked, tends to be momentarily jarring, though it has always done me good in the long run. What once seemed so big and imposing, is now so small and trivial. The intensity of pain or anxiety right here and now will fade as soon as I consider the bigger picture. It not only passes, it passes so very quickly when contrasted to the scale of the whole.
I no longer fret so much over the prospect of any afterlife, not because I arrogantly choose to deny it, but because I do not presume to be the one who will make the call. If Providence has something in store for my future, I will gladly accept it, trusting full well that she knows what is best. I also wish to avoid the temptation of demanding or expecting any further reward for my efforts at living according to Nature. A son should not impose his terms upon the father.
Since all change is ultimately a transformation, I am content with either becoming food for the worms or with some sort of continuation of consciousness, whatever that might be. I certainly should not think that an ending is in any way contrary to existence, or that reverting to nothing means I was never something, or, more properly, someone. In its service to the whole, the part is made to come and to go as it is needed.
In any case, there is a limit to me, at least in this peculiar form, and that is as it was intended to be. Let me make the best use of the now, without any fear about finding myself precisely where I started out, back at the source.
—Reflection written in 4/2013
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