One Year In: A Review

After one full year of doing the blog and reading 50+ books about death/dying/mortality, the biggest change is that I’m no longer terrified to die. And that’s great; no one likes to softly broil in existential terror.

But aside from significantly attenuating the fear of personal annihilation, there have been other interesting consequences of having a death blog.

1) My Amazon recommendations are weird as hell, and sites like GoodReads are at a total loss for what to suggest (strangely, they do not have a genre for DEATH). Also, my local librarians are gravely concerned for my well-being. GRAVELY. A plus though, Mark Zuckerberg’s social media supercomputer has cracked my code – I get all the good nihilist memes now.

2) I really have accepted that death is going to happen to me. Not some far off, distant version of myself… some version that might be better prepared, or wiser in some way. Just me. (Irvin Yalom talked about this in “Staring at the Sun,” as did Claudia Biçen). When I read memoirs or reflections about death, the barrier between self and other dissolves. It’s not me over here and dying people over there. I see myself in their stories.

3) I’m less concerned with “leaving a mark,” and more at peace with being forgotten, with slipping soundlessly into the past. With being “radically inconsequential,” as Sheldon Solomon would say. I agree with Stephen Cave that while the concept of leaving behind a unique, individual legacy seems comforting, the plausibility wanes the more I interrogate the idea. I would however like a green burial – to be a generous necrocitizen and leave behind a minor organic legacy. That is comforting to me.

4) I no longer subscribe to the position that atheists have nothing to offer in the face of death or grief. Like many of my ilk, I assumed that existential comfort was a territory that could never be ceded to secularism. What’s on offer, without belief in a soul or an afterlife? As it turns out, plenty. Honest naturalism may be a bitter dish, but the lingering notes are sweet. Further, it’s the stories we tell ourselves about death that bring comfort, and those stories need not be supernatural or imbued with superstitious thinking to be compelling. It’s also been my experience that the idea of a soul, or an afterlife, or immortality are only comforting to the degree that you don’t think too hard about the logistics.

5) I acknowledge that everyone is a little afraid to die. Irvin Yalom, an atheist and practicing existential psychotherapist of more than 50 years, still has pangs of fear from time to time. While I’m not deeply afraid to die anymore, knowing that folks like Yalom still have the occasional bolt of panic feels like… absolution? Permission to be a wee bit afraid? Whatever it is, it feels good.

6) Friends! The more niche the area of interest, the more instant and powerful the connection between people with that same interest. Layer in that death is still a taboo subject, when you find someone else who wants to talk about death… well, instant friendship. I cherish this group of smart, talented, out-of-the-box-thinkers who have adopted me. As an aside, having your favourite authors tweet you back, or respond to your emails, is pretty damn groovy. The people occupying this space are fabulous. 

So, what’s next? Well, the death blog continues. I still have 150+ books about mortality I want to read, and so many people to interview. But for the next year, I’ll be exploring additional death-adjacent areas of interest as well.

Stay tuned!