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

Living Courageously

To me, the title of this post is an oxymoron, because to live is to be courageous. The dialogue continues, as is fitting for a philosophical discussion. How can death not be depressing? Again, I ask the opposite, why is it depressing? So far anyone has yet to answer this question. Everyone just assumes that it is true, which is the antithesis of philosophical debate. We must question everything. Besides, regardless of how we feel about it, it is a fact that one day we will all die. Facts may invoke feelings, but by themselves they are objective and without feeling. For those relentless commentators I ask for you to explain to me why death is depressing, not just to say that it is. Otherwise the debate will have ended because I believe I will have no more to say on the subject after this post.

My view, and perhaps it is because I am more sensitive to the fact of death, is that we choose to live everyday of our lives. We have a choice to make everyday in the face of the meaningless void that threatens us, and that is to create meaning in a meaningless world. Each day (and this is more apparent to adolescents and adults more than to children) we awake and decide to live. We do not have to make this decision, in fact, it would be so much easier to give up and not do anything. When I say "live," I am not speaking of merely existing, but the fact of living, which is to say that we add our two cents to the world by the things that we do. We don't have to be great artists to add a great deal to this world, any act of creation, however small it may be, will do. This takes great courage because anything that we do could be senselessly obliterated at any moment by any random act of humanity or God. Still, we choose to do them. Why?

Regardless of the inhumanities of man, I must admire the courage to continue despite everything that has happened. Despite wars, despite natural disasters, despite disease, we continue. Not only do we get up each day and decide that suicide is just not an option (which for some of us is quite an accomplishment), we go even further and create meaning. We give birth to children that might not grow up, we give birth to ideas that might not see fruition, we give birth to art that might be destroyed and we teach future generations that this is the right path. I agree. This is what I mean by living courageously.

"Sometimes even to live is an act of courage." -Seneca
"Often the test of courage is not to die, but to live." -Vittorio Alfieri
"Courage is almost a contradiction in terms. It means a strong desire to live taking the form of a readiness to die." -G. K. Chesterton

Death and Dying

I received a comment recently about how all my posts seem to come down to death and dying. Granted, it is somewhat of an obsession of mine (and I have never been labeled as a Goth by myself or others), however, what occurred to me is not, "Why do I always think about death?" but rather, "Why don't others think about it more?"

We are a culture of eternal youth and living forever. Everyone wants to be young forever-or at least ascribe to a philosophy that promises life everlasting. Just look at our obsession with plastic surgery, even to the point of having TV shows about it! There is an enormous amount of research going into studying aging. In this past century life expectancy has increased greatly, and even the quality of life has improved for those who do reach venerable ages (at least in this part of the world). My own great-grandmother was cracking jokes at her hundredth birthday party. The number of centenarians is also increasing, and we are promised that soon everyone will live to be a hundred.

This is the norm. No one questions it, of course, because it's normal. So when someone does something that is not normal, like talking about death a lot in a life-centered society, they are considered to be abnormal. It doesn't bother me much to be considered abnormal, as if there's something wrong with thinking about death a lot. I'd rather be counter-culture anyway; I always have been, I always will be. Even Rollo May believes that the artists of our times are canaries of sorts, singing loudly to warn the people of impending danger.

I've said it before, but it's worth repeating: people are afraid of death. I am no different than others, but I choose to live my life courageously by facing it. I don't believe we can ignore its importance. Death is the other side of the coin to life. It is only by struggling with this unknowable certainty that we can truly live.

"As you struggle with the mystery of your death, you will discover the meaning of your life." -M. Scott Peck [Further Down the Road Less Traveled]

For further reading: Elizabeth Kubler-Ross On Death and Dying and M. Scott Peck The Road Less Travelled

The Face That Launched One Thousand Ships

The reference in my title is to Helen of Troy, from a line in Marlowe's Faust. While Faust (whoever's it may be) is a post in itself, this particular post is about Helen and what she stands for, namely, Beauty (with a capital B). Why Helen? Helen is the inspiration for a culture. The Greeks are known as Hellenic for a reason. Although ancient Greece rules no more, it continues to inspire us (speaking from a strictly eurocentric point of view, which is fine considering that is my descent). Ancient Greece is the original classic, and since they were inspired by Beauty in all that they did, there must be something to it.

There is a reason why we human beings are creative, striving for Beauty. We are always striving to express ourselves and certainly art in all its forms is our means. According to Keats (Ode on a Grecian Urn), "Beauty is truth, truth beauty, --that is all/ Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know." Dickinson also wrote in I Died for Beauty "'For beauty,' I replied./'And I for truth, -the two are one." Aldous Huxley also stated that "after silence, that which comes nearest to expressing the inexpressable is music." Within our artistic endeavors lies a deeper meaning, regardless of its intentionality.

How does this Truth sneak into our endeavors? Part of it is how we are merely expressing that which has already existed for centuries as part of our culture. We are not only inspired by ancient civilisations but unconsciously socialised to make their Truths a part of us. Moreover, art acts as therapy as our artistic struggles mirror our struggles with the world around us. Our attempts to make sense of the world are expressed as art.

Fundamentally though, creative endeavors are the answer to our greatest fear: death. When we create something truly worthwhile, expressing enduring truths about the world, we are creating something that will outlast even ourselves. It is through these creative endeavors that we can continue to dialogue with those who are no longer physically with us and seek immortality for ourselves.

For further reading: Rollo May's Courage to Create and My Quest for Beauty

Personal Responsibility and Special Needs

A friend sent me a link yesterday to a message board discussing the situation of a special needs student at the university level. Obviously apropos to myself, given that I teach special needs students at the high school level, the debate proved interesting.

The situation was the following: the student has a condition known as Attention Deficit Disorder (ADD). [I will not even begin to debate whether or not this and other disabilities like it actually exist; anyone who does not believe in it should stop by my classroom sometime.] Given that most universities have policies for students with disabilities, this student was demanding extra time for his tests (up to twice the allowed time). Obviously, this is a difficulty for the person administering the test, and an ethical question involving the consideration of whether or not said student actually deserved the extra time because of his conduct during classtime. Plainly said, he didn't appear to be trying to compensating for his illness by sitting near the front of the class, visiting the professor during office hours, etc.

Regardless of what the answer is to the question, university policy exists and for good reason: there are students who need it. The fact that it is often abused (like so many other things) does not negate its necessity. There is nothing that the person administering the test can do-even if the student never attended class- but to grin and bear it. I don't think there is any review of policy or criteria you can put into place to make sure abuses don't happen.

However, ethically, we can debate this forever and a day. People have disabilities, this is a fact of life. To what extent can their disabilties be used as an excuse? It reminds me of the post I wrote on Fate (alas, the poor student was finally expelled; I wish him well). I would like to think that everyone is capable of doing much more than what they think they are capable of, if they would only try. Of course, again, my bias is that I am an educator and if I didn't believe that I wouldn't bother to help my students as much as I do. But just as I see so many people use their disabilities as an excuse, I see so many people overcoming incredible odds to accomplish amazing things.

"Adversity causes some men to break; others to break records."-William Ward

The Classics

Mark Twain defines a classic as "something that everyone wants to have read but nobody wants to read." I wrote this quote down when I first began my collections because it amused me, but now I see a deeper meaning to it. We assume it means that people want to be "cultured," whatever that word means, because reading something somebody defines as a "classic" is one way to go about it. We would like to take the easy road, to be able to discuss the ideas present in the literature without having to actually read it. Again, I implore people to take the higher, more difficult path. You cannot skip important ideas without reading the full text (why Cliff notes are only good for high school English exams). The ideas inherent to the novel are not just about being "cultured" because you have read a certain piece of literature, but something far greater than can only be discovered as you work through the mythology that is inherent in it. What is "culture" anyway?

"Culture, the acquainting ourselves with the best that has been known and said in the world, and thus with the history of the human spirit." -Arnold (emphasis mine)

Having just finished Rollo May's book The Cry for Myth, I am under the influence of his (and of course my dear friend Jung's) ideas about mythologies being inherent in our being. Regardless of the philosophy or psychology that you ascribe to, we love great stories because they present to us over and over again truisms about human beings, the way we are and act or could possibly act in given situations. Even before reading this book, I wrote in my writing journal three years ago, "Good writing is difficult to define because good stories come as close as possible to sharing the meaning of life-profound truth itself. When we write we must make our readers feel as if they are actually experiencing what we have experienced-our stories-and by doing so we share a little piece of life's grand puzzle." When we read literature we are in some way, whether we realize it or not, working through our own problems because the situations mirror our own.

"The true use of Shakespeare or of Cervantes, of Homer or of Dante, of Chaucer or of Rabelais, is to augment one's own growing inner self." -Harold Bloom [The Western Canon]