Plato described Socrates’ birth by saying that “Socrates came dying into life”, which means that from the time we are born, we begin to die. We die a little bit every day until one day we live no more.
Death, therefore, is an inevitable part of life. It is in fact the end of life as we know it. And yet, although we know it to be a certainty and although we know it is a known expectation, we never seem able to come to terms with the grim reality of death.
We simply are afraid of death. We know it is a surety. We know it can come at any time. We also know that it does not favour or discriminate. It is fair, yet we fear it.
My uncle used to say “Live we may, die we must.”
So why do we fear this death although we understand its reality and its fairness to all races, colours, creeds and classes?
We fear death because we fear the unknown. We don’t know where, when and how it is going to happen. Surely if we could control these situations, we would definitely choose the easiest, least painful, and most peaceful way to die.
Oh, how we would be able to remove from the subconscious and even unconscious mind the cruel thought of being burnt to death in a vicious house fire; the massive explosion of a plane crash on impact in some remote mountain where body and soul would be far removed from loved ones; a car crash at high speed where bodies and metal scatter alike; being tossed to and fro among tempestuous waves and then to satisfy some carnivorous mammal; or even to fall freely from on high but not landing on a friendly surface.
Nor do we know what happens after death. Is it the end or is it the beginning of another phase of life? We hear all kinds of theories and in the absence of unquestionable proof, we are left to fear the unknown even more.
We hear of milk and honey. I sometimes wonder, “what a strange and unbalanced diet!”
We hear of a land of paradise and 77 virgins which scares me personally for I once encountered a virgin and it took us three weeks in order to come to an understanding. I therefore shudder at the thought of 77 virgins multiplied by three weeks which would mean approximately four and a half years before we all have an understanding.
The unknown must remain the unknown. What we know is not unknown. We even live in the unknown. What may happen tomorrow? We don’t know.
The realization that death cannot be reversed is frightening. There are some people who wish that annoying people would die for a few weeks and in their quest to remove the annoyance, realize – always too late – that they have committed an act that cannot be reversed.
The finality of death probably has the emptiest feeling of all. When the coffin is being lowered and it hits home that you will never ever see that loved one again, in any form, there is an emotion which even the greatest poet might struggle to describe. Death with its sting is now at its mightiest.
And then there is decay when we think of what happens to our bodies; the wasting away of flesh; being food for predators; the body losing its last and remotest hope of life; from something that was, to nothing – that is a scary and real image.
Death, although consistent in the sense that it spares no one and is certain to show up, is treated differently by different cultures. Some people believe that death should be celebrated as freedom from this wicked and cruel world. These same people cry and mourn at the birth of a child, believing that he or she now has to endure a harsh life in this corrupt world.
There is one culture where the nearest kin must drop a boulder on the skull in order to release the spirit from the body.
I once attended a Jewish funeral where you were not allowed to sit unless the seat was ruggedly uncomfortable.
Of course some folks use cremation.
No matter how the bodies are disposed of, the fear of dying still remains.
I guess if we were to know for sure that there is life after death and that it is the best thing ever, we would all speed up our demise to get there as soon as possible to experience utopia.
So in the meantime we have to respect and appreciate life and all its vagaries, for that might be all there is.
• Mac Fingall is an entertainer and retired secondary schoolteacher.
