I often think of how I would consider my current life choices on my death bed. It sounds morbid, but it’s not. In fact, thinking about older selves or dying selves comes up in various therapeutic modalities, such as in acceptance and commitment therapy (ACT) or chair work.
Don’t get me wrong, there has been a morbid side to me and I have brushed up against that semicolon more times than I would like to admit, but the topic today is a qualitatively different area inside the self. Maybe we’ll get to that other one later. I am not sure how much I want to share about that yet.
As my dad lay there on his death bed, similar reflections came up. What was the net balance of his life? What had been “good”, “bad”, a worthwhile means to an end, a dead end, helpful or harmful in some big way? How would I take stock of some of his actions? How would I tell his story? How would he, if he could talk?
Even when he was alive, he couldn’t communicate on that level except on very rare occasions, with skillful and patient prompting, and/or some drinks involved. He had many guards up, as most men of that generation were raised to have. He also experienced his share of traumas and neglect as a small kid, which colored how he interacted with himself and others.
The upshot of how my dad was, is that a lot of synthesis and meaning-making had to come from me, at that crucial moment of reckoning. For some reason, watching him there, struggling for breath for days on end, as his body burned up with sepsis and hydroencephalitis, it all became so clear. Here is what I got from that; please feel free to question, comment, or add to it with your own reflections. We are here to learn from each other.
2. He did some pretty fucked up stuff. No word of a lie. I’ve had a lot of therapy to unpack some of what happened. He did it all with the best, sharpest intents in his heart (well, maybe not all, but most at least!), sincerely trying with the tools he had at hand and with the hardships he had endured – especially from his mother. Hurt people hurt people, and all that jazz.
And yet, somehow, as he lay there dying, none of it mattered. I was full of admiration for the depth and sincerity of his effort. That was what mattered to me. That was what mattered to him. I think that value is going to stay with me forever. Try with all your heart. Give every crumb of your soul to this life. Learn everything you can. Contribute in every way possible. Feel all your feelings. Know you are going to fuck up, even hurt people, even do things that you will regret until you finally walk through that portal. Work hard on owning that and doing better, but don’t let it hold you back. Don’t be afraid of the imperfections and mistakes. Remember that not acting is a form of acting too, and that equal damage can come from holding back than just going for it.
3. This ties to the top 5 regrets of the dying. Bronnie Ware, who worked in palliative care wrote this amazing book, full of ideas that inspire. Ideas to live your life better, differently, in a more fulfilled way, because it turns out the dying often think and feel the same in some ways. There are commonalities in that era of reckoning, such as people regretting what they didn’t do more than what they did do. There is a kind of retrospective clarity and wisdom that only comes at the end, but that we all benefit from integrating before that time.
Being alive, feeling like there is nothing but the endless road ahead, we get so caught up in the day by day, that we forget the big picture. The day by day’s intensity must be engaged with in some ways, but it is also the most incredible sleight of hand from the universe on the other. It can be a mirage, as you get so hyperfocused or emotional about something happening right now or soon, when it will have simply evaporated in a week, a month, a year… There are so many forms of illusion that can overtake us when we are looking too close… Buddhists have expanded upon the ideas of what is illusory and real with the concept of Maya, which extends far beyond this discussion. Many other traditions have explored all kinds of related concepts. Heck, take a look at the Matrix, Kant’s concept of “ding an sich”, or the realism/ontological realism debate; you’ll find a whole lot of interesting stuff to ponder. There is the forest, and then there are the trees that we face on the daily – that’s the bottom line.
What I can say for now, is that reality is too complex for us to understand, whatever reality is or isn’t. I’ll provide two simple, concrete examples. First, we are absolutely rubbish at something called affective forecasting. It’s exactly what it sounds like: imagine how bad we are at predicting and extrapolating things like the weather, and now apply that to emotions. We are notoriously bad at knowing what will or won’t work out for us. That big job that will change your life? That partner of your dreams? Not getting your degree and it seeming like the end of the world? May or may not work out, but let me tell you that science says your close friends and family are way better at knowing how that will impact us than we are, and even they aren’t that great at it. Second example: in high complexity situations with many variables, such as buying a home, we are not good at processing facts with our rational brains. We think we are, because the conscious, rational, thinking mind consistently overestimates itself, but we aren’t. In general, folks who follow their gut do better in these contexts, because it’s too slow, too costly, and just not feasible to evaluate every detail.
So, if your (devastatingly convincing thoughts and internal argument) may not even be correct, you can use other aspects of yourself too! Try to Zoom out, go with your gut, explore your emotions, and stay with your body. Listen to the dying. They know what’s up. Listen to the body – it’s kept us alive so far and it’s pretty wise.
Back to my dad, he was authentic, no matter what. His mind and body were voracious, open, exploratory. He lived through most of the experiences he sought out or even thought about. Some of them can’t be described here, out of respect for my family’s privacy, but let me tell you, it was no holds barred. I couldn’t help but smile at him, in that hospital: “you fucking badass; you lived exactly as yourself, fully, deeply, fast”. He had fears like us all, and there are places I’m choosing to not follow in his footsteps (emotional awareness and regulation being one of them), but he cracked the code on this facet.
I hope you get to use this lesson as much as I did. It’s been both painful and enjoyable. It’s made my life better overall.
