Dying Courageously

Let's check out the news today. A boy in the US goes on a shooting rampage, killing a bunch of people and injuring many others before shooting himself. A man fights to end his wife's life while her family and many unrelated Conservatives fight to save it. I speak of these today because I want to discuss what it means to die courageously, having already discussed what it means to live courageously.

The first thing I'd like to comment on is what was splattered all over the front page this morning, Columbine redux. Obviously this kid had problems. I find it sad that he was allowed to fall through the cracks, as so many children are, but that is besides the point. The fact of the matter is that while this child wielded a lot of power in the weapons that he branded, he had no courage, ultimately taking his life, knowing the consequences that awaited him. Regardless of his reasons for doing what he did, there was no courage in his act. Courageous people find ways of dealing with their pain that does not include murder of innocents (including themselves). Suicide is cowardice. The mental anguish of depression can outweigh some of the toughest physical pain, and there is no analgesic to stop it. Yet I cannot believe that it is where life should end. This is where we must be courageous, creating in the face of despair.

The second situation is also difficult to talk about. Some people think that we are more humane to our animals than we are to our fellow human beings. Who cares more about their pets, those who choose to spare them the pain (or perhaps think it is too costly to save their lives), or those who choose to fight for their lives (or who won't spare them the pain because they themselves can't let go)? While the pet analogy is simplistic, it rings true. Far more simplistic is the idea that euthanasia is always wrong, or the right to choose is always right.

The two newsworthy situations are one and the same. Whether the pain is mental or physical, I don't think we can judge when it is appropriate to choose when to stop living. However, since medicine can keep us alive for a great deal of time, we must figure out what it means if our bodies are being kept alive by machines. How do we determine what "living" really is? As I said yesterday, I believe it is more than just the fact of existing. Yet where do we draw the line? The slippery slope may be a logical fallacy, but it is something we must keep in mind: the line must be drawn somewhere. If it is courageous to live, at what point is it OK not to? No matter what our capabilities, we can all create, we can all be courageous. But when that capacity is taken from us, I should hope that we have the courage to let go.

For further reading: Denial of the Soul by M. Scott Peck