Recognizing the impermanence
The Stoics spoke and thought often of death; and for that, many have regarded the philosophy as a bleak and somber worldview. Many see Stoicism and think cold, callous, serious. But they miss the key part. The Stoic fixation on death was instrumental. It served a purpose. Recognizing the impermanence of life deepens our appreciation for it.
The inevitability and universality of death gives us a realization that we have only a finite amount of time in this world. We can choose to suffer and wrap ourselves in anxiety and judgment and ego like a shield from the world and the truth of our mortality. Or, we can choose to open ourselves up to everything and everyone around us. Instead of coldness, we can choose warmth and cheerfulness and joy and love. We can marvel at the fact that we are here in this moment, a collection of stardust with sentience and a desire to experience the world as it is. For a short while, we are the cosmos observing itself.
Change is constant
Marcus Aurelius thought often of change and death in his life. Indeed, he was surrounded by both. An empire embroiled in war and plague and treachery. His own body growing frail and unreliable as he campaigned at the frontier. Understandably, he wrote to himself often about how to properly view and interpret change and death. Book Seven of Meditations has a collection of perhaps some of the best views on this topic:
Frightened of change? But what can exist without it? What’s closer to nature’s heart? Can you take a hot bath and leave the firewood as it was? Eat food without transforming it? Can any vital process take place without something being changed? Can’t you see? It’s just the same with you – and just as vital to nature. - Marcus Aurelius, Meditations, 7
Marcus, and the other Stoics, recognized that change is both constant and natural. It happens every moment of every day. And what would life be without change? It wouldn’t. Without change, Earth would never have formed; life would never have evolved; man would never have been able to gaze at the stars. It gives us life and a chance to grow in the way we choose to. We can choose to grow well-appreciative and earnest and strong. Or we can choose to despair over our lives.
Death is nothing to fear
A now trite phrase among Stoic communities is “memento mori.” Remember death. There are challenge coins being peddled to remind us of our end. But rather than a trinket, why not ponder death ourselves? What follows is a brief meditation I wrote on death and how we can approach it.
Everything dies
No matter how massive, how strong, how adaptive. No matter how famous, how timeless, how immutable. Everything dies.
From the big bang to the heat death of the universe, one throughline weaves itself across the stars and in our lives: entropy, decay. Even Marcus' rock standing against the raging sea erodes with time. Even the most mythic heroes and foes of legend fade into oblivion. Everything dies.
Yet death and decay, while constant, are not cause for despair. Yes, one day humanity will forget you. One day the earth will forget humanity. One day the sun will forget the earth. One day, the universe will forget the stars. And yet, we continue to live and love and thrive. No matter how fleeting, no matter how futile, the stars still shine and we still rise to meet them. Everything dies.
So what if everything dies? Do we stand, an unmoving but sea-battered and windswept stone, until we fade into dust? No, we grow like the trees, sway in the breeze, and follow our natural flow. The stone is no more impervious to oblivion than we or the trees – yet it is static. Unshaken, yet whittled to dust like us. The tree is equally unbothered by its fate, and yet it provides for all. We humans ought to aspire to be the adaptable and flexible tree, rooted in virtue. Everything dies.
One hears "memento mori" and finds mortality depressing. Yet it is natural, not just for us but for everything. It is not a call beckoning us to our ends, but a rally to live naturally and live well. For despite death, we are now and will always be a part of existence. Our body decays, but provides beyond death. If we provide for life after death, why not do so before it? Everything dies.
No, I will not fatalistically approach my death. Yet, nor will I deny it. For why fear or bemoan or deny death if one lives a life fully? If you fear death, it is because you believe you have not lived as well as you could have. So, live well in the time that remains; be that a day or a decade. Everything dies.
This call to remember death is a call to remember virtue. Do not fool yourself into immortality and viciousness, but embrace your impermanence by living well. Everything dies. And as Marcus wrote to himself,
About death: Whether it is a dispersion, or a resolution into atoms, or annihilation, it is either extinction or change. - Marcus Aurelius, Meditations, 7
So why fear it?
John Kuna is a Stoic prokopton, writer, and dog lover. He likes digging deep into Stoic theory, but also writing accessible and inspiring Stoic content.