posted May 15, 2016, 6:26 PM by Cliff Williams [ updated May 15, 2016, 6:50 PM ]
This past semester I taught a course called Death and the Meaning of Life at Wheaton College in Illinois, where I have been teaching for the past three years. Near the end of the first class period, I decided that the course question would be, “How should we live so as to die well?” I spontaneously looked at Nicole and asked her that. She was caught off guard, but after a pause answered, “We need to value and appreciate the people and opportunities around us so that we don’t feel remorse at the end of our lives because we wasted what was given to us.”
Two class periods later, I asked John and Laurie. John said, “We should live with open hands—knowing we will die, not resisting death, not grasping too hard on life, not living as if every day is our last.”
Laurie responded with, “We should live as though we don’t know whether it is our last day. We should live with the consciousness that we don’t know how much time we have left. We should hold our achievements loosely, but still strive.”
Two further class periods later, I asked Andy, who said, “We should understand our place in all of existence and contribute to the overall beauty and good in the world.”
Then Dan: “We should live a joyful life. We do not need to do anything super huge, just achieve our goals for life, which for me is to become a husband and father.”
More answers from later class periods:
Josh: “We should live with the acceptance of death, which will allow us not to be surprised by it, not to be taken aback by it. We will be able to die well if we can accept death. That, though, is the difficult part.”
Melissa 1: “We should let go of stress, which takes away enjoyment. I have filled up a lot of my life with stress instead of just relaxing.”
Maureen: “We should have a balance between being mindful that we are going to die but not so mindful that we fail to live well—a state of mindful ignorance.”
Melissa 2 gave a long answer: “We usually think we won’t start to live until we get to a later stage in life. We have to realize that if we only look forward and keep waiting to arrive at a later stage instead of living now, we will never really live. The idea is that we are afraid to do things until we feel ready, but we never feel ready. We need to start doing things instead of simply waiting. We need to engage in what we are doing now instead of thinking of what we are doing now as the thing we do before life begins, as simply a preparation for real life. Everything we have done is actually real living, though we have not realized it.”
Brady’s answer was short: “We need to accept life as a gift and live by giving to others.”
Katherine’s answer was personal: “I will be ready to die if I have lived a life that is not consumed by myself but is focused on Christ.”
After a long period of silence, Erik said, “I don’t know.”
Luke had previously written a long answer, which he had shown me, but in class he condensed it to, “We should consider what happens after death and choose to live accordingly.”
With a happy smile, Malena said, “When we see the opportunity to dance, we should take it.”
Then Malena asked, “Cliff, how should we live so as to die well?” I had decided that I would not think ahead of time how I would answer the question. So, like the others, I was caught a little off guard, and like them I hesitated before saying, in a halting voice, “We should be open to dancing and exploring and accepting other people’s love. We should listen and love and seize opportunities.”
Two class periods later, I called on Nathan, who said, “We should take a position of humility that says we are limited in our knowledge of reality. This is incredibly freeing yet scary. It affects how we orient ourselves to the future. Life can give us things we thought we would never have. We need to summon a lot of courage to face life.”
Krista was next: “We need to summon a lot of courage to face life and death. It is important to be aware that our friends and acquaintances will die. We need to realize that we may never see them again. This realization changed the way I view conflict with friends. It is important to reach out to them before they die. Someone I knew died recently.” There was a long, intense silence when she finished.
The day before the last class period of the course, I asked Fred, who is 83 (the oldest student I have ever had): “It is important that we are honest with ourselves, that we live each day to its fullest, and that we are always looking to find a way to serve others.”
Natalie: “We should live generously and fill our lives with the lives of others.”
Drew: “We should find meaning in each day.”
James: “We should live without the anticipation of death, but with the knowledge that it will come.”
During the last class period of the course, we discussed what lessons the fact of death teaches us. I wrote some of the answers on the board. One of them was that death teaches us that we are not in ultimate control of our lives and therefore need outside help to deal with death. (This came from Paul Moser’s article, “Divine Hiddenness, Death, and Meaning.”)
I decided to teach Philosophy 347, Death and the Meaning of Life, because I thought a college experience that did not include thinking about the meaning of life would be incomplete. I also wanted to teach the course so that I, too, could be a student in it. As the answers to the course question show, twenty-year olds have significant insights that can enrich those of us who are much closer to death.
© 2016 by Cliff Williams
posted Mar 15, 2016, 9:52 AM by Cliff Williams [ updated May 15, 2016, 7:37 PM ]
Yesterday was the first class of “Death and the Meaning of Life,” a half-semester course I am teaching for the first time. We talked about Ivan Ilyich, the main character in Leo Tolstoy’s short novel, The Death of Ivan Ilyich.
Ivan was a respected judge in nineteenth century Russia. But his life, Tolstoy depicts in the novel, was essentially false. Ivan simply conformed to the social proprieties of the day, as though he was not living his own life. His attitude toward those whom he sentenced in court was one of condescension. The pleasures he pursued outside of court were trivial and meaningless.
When Ivan contracts what turns out to be a fatal disease, he distracts himself from the thought of his possible death by concentrating on work. The notion that he did not live as he should have enters his mind, but he casts it out. Later, the physical pain he is in becomes outweighed by the pain of moral agony—the tormenting possibility that perhaps his whole life was wrong. Terror and despair consume him. He screams for three days straight. Then he stretches out and dies.
We spent most of the class talking about how Ivan lived and about how he faced his death. Near the end of the class we talked briefly about how the first affected the second.
With just three minutes left in the class, it occurred to me that we could ask a Tolstoyian question of ourselves. I asked the class, “How would we have to live in order to face our deaths well?” I called on Nicole, because she was next in line to talk. She paused a bit, clearly a little uncomfortable, then said, “We need to value and appreciate the people and opportunities around us, so that we don't feel remorse at the end of our lives because we wasted what was given to us.”
I liked her answer. And though I am afraid that someone in the class will ask me that same question, I am going to make it the course question—partly because I want students to find answers to it for themselves and partly because I want to find an answer for myself.
© 2016 by Cliff Williams
posted Feb 27, 2016, 8:23 AM by Cliff Williams [ updated Feb 27, 2016, 8:24 AM ]
"I was like a hot mess. I could not function in basic ways. I could not go to classes. I did not take care of myself. I rarely got out of bed. When I did, I did not participate in normal, social experiences. Every night I prayed that I would not wake up in the morning."
These are the words of “Jeanette” (not her real name) describing what she went through two years ago.
When she was a child, her mother told her more than once that she was going to kill herself and that it would be Jeanette’s fault. One time her mother told Jeanette that she hated Jeanette.
As a result of her depression in college, Jeanette tried to take a bottle of pills. Her sister walked in on her and knocked the bottle out of her hands.
What turned her around was the intensive outpatient program she participated in at a hospital, plus solid medication.
One thing that keeps her alive now is her dog—a certified emotional support animal.
Read the full story at http://wheatontide.com/2016/02/25/mental-health-at-wheaton-pt-iii/
Home page of Cliff Williams
posted Jan 23, 2016, 7:12 AM by Cliff Williams [ updated May 15, 2016, 7:35 PM ]
Some aphorisms about dying and the meaning of life
Williams, a Professional Philosopher Whose Thoughts Sometimes Stray from the
Abstract and Esoteric to the Mundane, but Sublime, Matters of Life
© 2016 by Cliff Williams
posted Dec 16, 2015, 6:47 PM by Cliff Williams [ updated Dec 18, 2015, 5:33 PM ]
Alan (not his real name) and I met at a coffeehouse this past Saturday afternoon. “How are you,” I asked. “Not good,” he replied. “It is Christmas season, and I am depressed.”
Alan is in his mid-fifties and has a history of depression and suicidal thoughts. He was treated badly by his parents when he was young, so much so that he had to leave them when he was a teenager.
“I don’t have any family, except for my wife,” Alan continued, with an expression of hopelessness on his face.
I had seen that look more than thirty years earlier when Alan sat in my office as a student. He had no place to live, and he didn’t know why he kept living.
Many writers have noted that there is a higher incidence of depression in the weeks leading up to Christmas. Expectations are higher. Family is not always present. Even those who do not have a history of depression can feel sad and gloomy.
What can we do to encourage people during Christmas season? One good thing is simply to ask those we encounter how they are at a time and place at which they can answer honestly. If we have an expression on our faces that conveys the message that we want to listen, we may find ourselves listening to deep feelings. Listening to one who is depressed often helps them get through another day, and sometimes even gives them a reason to stay alive.
© 2015 by Cliff Williams All rights reserved
posted Nov 3, 2015, 2:16 PM by Cliff Williams [ updated Mar 12, 2016, 7:46 AM ]
When Louise* was a teenager, her uncle regularly molested her. She thought that was normal, because he behaved the same way toward a lot of young girls. Her uncle said, “I do this because I love you.”
When she left home at seventeen, she felt that there was something hanging over her, something that had not been addressed, but she didn’t know what it was and wasn’t able to express what she was feeling. Everything had been shoved under a rug by her family.
She got a job, but could not shake the painful emotions that plagued her. By her late twenties she had spiraled to a place of darkness. She was in such emotional pain that she started thinking about killing herself.
At first she didn’t want actually to kill herself, because she didn’t want to hurt anyone else. In the end, though, easing her own pain became more important than not hurting someone else. She attempted to shoot herself in the head, but the gun jerked and simply grazed her head.
Louise’s story is both different and the same from other people’s stories involving a suicide attempt. It is different because there are many different sources of emotional pain—bipolar disorder, post traumatic stress syndrome, parental criticism, to name a few. It is the same because it involves a high level of emotional pain. The pain level is so high that the person who experiences it is willing to do anything to get rid of it, including dying. If someone believes that the only way to rid themselves of pain is to die, they will become suicidal.
A different way to answer the question, Why do people want to kill themselves? is to say that people who experience intense pain do not actually want to die. Rather, they simply want the pain to go away. As Garrett* said, “I didn’t want to die. I just wanted the pain to end.”
* Not their real names
© 2015 by Cliff Williams All rights reserved
posted Oct 20, 2015, 10:09 AM by Cliff Williams [ updated Nov 8, 2015, 9:36 AM ]
When I was a child, I climbed the tree out back nearly to the top and sat for half an hour, sometimes an hour, watching things happen around the house and up the street. I also thought about things, mostly child things.
Now that I am a good deal older, I sometimes think about death and the meaning of life—my life and my death.
That is part of the reason I decided to interview people who attempted suicide for a book. I asked them two questions: What led up to your suicide attempt? and, What keeps you alive now?
Who better to know what death is about than someone who has confronted it themselves? Who better to know why they keep living than someone who nearly died?
The book is called Choosing to Live: Stories of Those Who Stepped Away from Suicide. It contains stories of thirty-five people who tried to kill themselves, told in their own words.
This blog is dedicated to those people and their stories. It is about what makes a life meaningful.
The book is in process: Web page for Choosing to Live
Copyright © 2015 by Cliff Williams All rights reserved
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