I’M GOING TO DIE. WILL I MATTER?
I have a file in the notes app on my phone called “Quotes” where I store sentences and phrases that have struck me as significant. Some I have written. Some have been written by others. The profundity of any quote is only as good as it is meaningful to you when you read it or write it, and by far the most succinct and the most slap-me-in-the-face ditty that I have ever typed out is: I’m going to die. Will I matter?
Not open to a lot of interpretation as far as what it says but open to a world of speculation about myself. So, I ran down all my typed-out pearls of wisdom and was struck by the fact that my simply stated question forms the crux of almost every single one of the others in some form or another.
Despite being a bit of a dreamer and idealist, I’m not delusional, and I already imagine that there are people out there who have seen the title of this article and have already skipped over it as some would pass a homeless individual on the street, with only a short uncomfortable moment to deal with, while you, dear one, continue to read it.
So, you might already know the gem in the question once you ask it of yourself – certainly not in any denial of death way or you wouldn’t have pondered it in the first place, and not in the quick response of “absolutely I matter, I’m here aren’t I,” thinking you’re being positive. The gem is that when one looks fixedly into the face of the question, fearless, determined not to shift one’s gaze – when we hold firm in whatever comes up for us – we will feel the blossoming of a brilliant flower, or the presence of a rotten one. And that can move us!
Philosophically we can say that every human being matters and performs a function in some way upon this planet, but the question isn’t asked for the philanthropy of others or this earth upon which we live. It’s asked for ourselves.
It has been that question in my face pretty much my entire life that I return to, to take stock. And it’s because of my ongoing questioning that I can say, most every single hardship I have endured has taught me great and valuable lessons about myself. It’s the question sometimes that allows every simple joy to be deeply felt, every relationship, new or old or troubled, to be a non-regrettable welcomed one. It’s the question that humbles me to admit error, to try more deeply, to understand, to empathize and to see how ridiculous, random and important my life is. To appreciate. But most importantly, to try to be a better human. With the power of that question asked behind our thoughts and actions, in the midst of the days of our lives, good things can arise. I’ll admit that the answer to the question can come up without necessarily dwelling on it, but rarely, and then often through trauma. Usually, we’re too busy doing stuff to notice! Stating: “I’m going to die,” asking: “will I matter?” – is a big part of how eyes might be opened, how staying aware of oneself might make a difference.
But along with our questioning might come some equally profound exultation or sadness. Sometimes it comes from recognizing we simply aren’t satisfied with our lives. Sometimes it’s from seeing the simplicity of how life could work compared to how it actually does. It’s felt in the heart for many of us who know how complicated people can make things for themselves, until they’re tied up into such a rock-hard knot that it’s almost impossible to untangle it. It’s felt when people are diminished through someone’s personal criteria: compassion for them but not for them, equality for them but not them, not that sex, not those clothes, not that thought, not that faith, not that poverty, not that human.
Let’s face it. We want to live and we want to live well, whatever that means for us. What isn’t asked so often is, at what expense? Our own? Our children’s? Our planet? Even our daily living routine. And sometimes, when we feel like we cannot make any difference in our small worlds, we toss effort aside, (I have certainly done that a number of times), and we forget that being here already conjures up the fact that I’m going to die. And acting in one way or another already brings about whether I will matter.
Well, if you’ve read this far you might actually want to know what my answer to the question is. Yes – I will matter. And so may you. You have your own answer. For me, it’s because I know that in every loving gesture in the face of adversity, life is lifted. In every individual who we hear clearly, life is understood. In every vision that flies beyond our narrow life or way of thinking and in every goodness given without conditions – love is. I fail at these things sometimes. But I start them up again all the same.
We are, because of each other. Life is a sacred mystery and we are alive to live it and made of the stuff of stars.
UNTIL SOON. LIVE WELL.
