Memento Mori
I recently watched a man die. He was in the hospital in declining health, and I was there with his family. It was among the most sobering and surreal experiences I’ve had.
To witness death is perhaps the most poignant memento mori there is. A reminder that you too are mortal. One day you will breath your last breath, and your heart will stop beating. No amount of medical treatment or diet or exercise can permanently delay your date with death.
At the risk of revealing the depth of my own strangeness I must confess I often think about my death. Not in a suicidal or overly morbid way, but as a practice of centering my life and sobering up from all the “forever young” messaging media and brands bombard us with.
The idea of a memento mori, although medieval, can be incredibly helpful for living honestly with ourselves in the present. Memento mori is a latin phrase meaning “remember to die.” It’s often translated as “remember (that you have) to die.” A memento mori was typically an object serving as a warning or reminder of death, such as a skull but really it could be anything that serves this purpose.
For example, when I run outdoors I run through a cemetery near my home. This practice of running is one of the memento mori’s I employ in my life. Running reminds me to care for my embodied self through regular exercise, diet, reading, and prayer, but it also reminds me that someday I too will wind up here, among the dead.
It reminds me how much of my life is spent pursuing things that won’t matter after I die. Projects I’m working on; things that frustrate or worry me; small things in relationships; etc. It reminds me to discard some of the big things that weigh me down and pay more attention to some of the small things that breathe life into life.
Related to the idea of memento mori is the Ars moriendi, the Art of Dying. Also from the medieval period, these Latin works describe the process of dying well, including obvious concern for the soul of the dying, avoiding end of life temptations, as well as instructions for family and friends at the deathbed.
I get that this seems like a very morbid subject, but it raises a least a few thoughts worth thinking and questions worth mulling over. If there is an art to dying then surely there is an art to living, an Ars vivendi. Life is more than biology and death more than the absence of it. Life and death have to do with the quality and orientation of both rather than mere existence or non-existence.
I have witnessed a man facing death display everything it means to live, and a man with decades ahead of him embody what it means to be dead.
If life is more than biology what then does it mean to live? An “art” requires practice to develop skills that can be used creatively in continuously new situations. What skills are essential to living?
Conversely, what skills are needed for the art of dying? What can we practice as both individuals who are going to die, and persons living alongside others who are dying?
The one skill or virtue needed for both is humility. Recognize how small you are in the context of the universe, but also how precious and unique. Humility will help you get out of your own way to see others for who they truly are. Humility will save you from needing to be right, so you can be authentically present with people right where they are, uncertainty and all.
I could try and end this on an up beat note, instead I’ll just say, remember that you will die, so you remember what it means to live.
