On the words of life + death
It has become necessary to define the words I regularly use in my work pertaining to life and death, living and dying. While definitions typically arise from consensus, herein I offer a selection of personal meanings, followed by the rationale that led me to these meanings and other thoughts. With this in mind, understand that these are therefore, my meanings and that I have written them here in the hope that you might better understand my work. Perhaps there is going to be overlap with your meanings, perhaps they can be a starting point for discussion. As always, I am keen on debate and welcome your feedback, critique and personal definitions of the same words.
Definitions
| 1. birth: the moment when "life" begins. |
2. death: (a) the moment when "life" ceases; (b) the terminus of "dying"; becoming "dead". |
|---|---|
| 3. life/alive: that which is capable of "dying". |
4. dead: that which is not "alive". |
| living (type 1): (a) mortal, physical, biological life; (b) the state of being after "birth" and before "death". |
dying (type 1): the mortal, physical, biological, "living (type 1)" process that culminates in "death" and the termination of "life". |
| living (type 2): "living (type 1)", plus "aliveness". |
dying (type 2): "living (type 1)", plus "deadness". |
| aliveness: that which brings "aliveness" to "living (type 1)", enlivens it, increases its worth. |
deadness: that which brings deadness to "living (type 1)", deadens it, decreases its worth. |
Notes
Birth: There is of course a more common understanding of this word, which pertains to the visible emergence of new life related to human experience: the birth of a child and the process of that labour. However, I needed a word that would also serve as a deeper antonym to the above definition of “death”: the moment when life ceases. In this, I do not favour the experiences of one species over another. The foetus is of course as alive as a baby, but so also is the ovum. We can assume, given what we know of reproduction, that there has been an unbroken transmission of life since life began. Thus “birth” pertains both to the start of our lives, describing the moment we were born, but also describes the birth of life itself; the primeval beginning.
Death: This word is often anthropomorphised, but homo sapien experience and culture is by no means the only significant death in the Universe. Neither is death a force or agent (although it surely appears to be sometimes), nor is there more than one kind of death. Instead death is what happens when living (type 1) things, which are themselves assembled of “dead” matter and energy, stop living (type 1) and begin to disassemble into their constituent parts, often to the benefit of other living things, such as bacteria, which require those same particles of matter and energy to sustain their own life processes. In addition, death is often (but not always) the word used to define the end point to the dying (type 1) process*.
Life/Alive: I have grouped these two words because their antonym (“dead”) has two meanings and because in a sense, they mean the same thing: that which is alive is life and that which is life is alive. Just as I do not find the suggestion that “death is a force” particularly useful, nor do I find use in ideas of “life force” or spirit. Nor am I satisfied with the many and often contradictory scientific definitions of the word “life”. Indeed, the only thing I have ever found consistent and therefore definable about the word “life” is how it pertains to a state of existence that is not “dead”. And while I could have simply defined “life/alive” as “not dead”, I didn’t want to make any assumptions that alive things are the only things that are not dead things (how could I know?). So instead I reasoned that as far as we know, life is the only thing that is capable of becoming dead, this at least in and of itself, is certain, assured and therefore, definable.
Dead: We homo sapiens are very small, so everything looks big to us, but it isn’t. According to our observations, the Universe is comprised predominantly of a comparatively small amount of “dead” matter and energy sitting in a void of infinite nothing. Everything looks small when compared to infinity, yet here we are. The living are also comprised of “dead” matter and energy, we the living are part of that stuff, yet for some reason we are “not dead”, we are “capable of dying”, we are “alive”.
Is it therefore necessary to differentiate between that which is “dead” and that which is “dead” that also happens to be “alive”? For me it is. “Life” is extremely scarce in the Universe, it is a divine jewel in the darkness. As a member of the “living” and, as an member of an dominant and often destructive species, therefore a custodian of the divine, that differentiation is a way of fighting the nihilism that grows in the heart of our species, a central concern of my work. So if I must discern, then “dead” means “not alive” to me, which leads me to conclude: that which is “alive” is not comprised of “dead” matter and energy at all, but “alive” matter and energy.
Type 1 and Type 2 Living and Dying
My work is concerned with the philosophies of homo sapiens and how we deal with, respond to, reckon with mortality, nature and the Universe - both as a species and as makers of culture. I also look at ways to respond to and resist nihilism, that psychotic abomination that renders us impotent in the face of a perceived infinite nothingness within which we are but an insignificant and meaningless part. As such, I am interested exclusively in the living and their ways, because the dead are dead and do not have ways and because it is only the living who have a “dying problem”, or to put it more correctly “a problem with dying”.
What does someone mean when they say “I just want to die”? Do they mean that they actually want to die? Or perhaps they feel as though they are already dead, despite being biologically alive? Perhaps they want part of themselves to die so that they might feel alive again? Or perhaps they really do want to die? And what does someone mean when they say “I feel truly alive”? We know that you are either alive or you are dead so you cannot be more or less truthfully alive. Perhaps when people say these kinds of things, they actually mean something else. On reflection, it has become clear that while most people (at least those who speak and think in the English languages) talk clearly about two kinds of living and two kinds of dying and very often understand which of the meanings is inferred, they only use two words, when they would use four if four were available. So the way we express ourselves in this language around living and dying is only half as effective as it should be, often leading to confusion, expressive impotence and limitations on personal agency around two very important subjects. Perhaps this is how some people end up being kept alive against their will on life support - because their families or those in charge of their care misunderstand when they talk about “living”. And perhaps this is how some people end up on suicide watch, when in fact all they need is something that makes them feel more alive, like a decent hug.**
What I am talking about is a small set of words that describe states and experiences that we all know and sometimes understand and sometimes misunderstand, but don’t have words for. This could be cultural, perhaps in other languages there are plenty of words to describe different and more nuanced kinds of living and dying.† Certainly in English, we do not have different words that simultaneously describe the subtle equivalence and interplay between distinct kinds of living and dying, nor those that highlight their comparative differences. To further compound the issue, dying is clearly something that alive things do, so really “living” and “dying” are two words that describe at least four states or experiences of living. So while the other words in this short lexicon have convenient antonyms, “living” and “dying” are perhaps more akin to two highly personalised yet quite intangible measurements of lived experience that exist, often overlapping and interacting, on a scale called “life”. I call the units of measurement on this exclusive and internalised scale “aliveness” and “deadness”.
So I split “living” and “dying” into type 1 and type 2 and then made definitions for “aliveness” and “deadness”. It was easier that way. Type 1 living and dying is biological, mortal life. Type 2 living and dying pertains to our measure of our own “aliveness” and “deadness” and as with “alive” and “dead”, one negates, or describes a lack of the other; they are mutually inversely proportional. Thus “dead” describes a lack of “life” and “deadness” describes a person’s measure of an increasing or decreasing lack of “aliveness” in their lives. Conversely, “aliveness” describes a person’s measure of an increasing or decreasing “aliveness” in their lives. These terms are fluid, yet interdependent, symbiotic even.
It’s so important to homo sapiens that life is not just lived, but really lived, that it is a life worth living. A life full of aliveness is one that is capable of resisting nihilism and its products. A life full of deadness has no fight in it. This is why I care to make the distinctions and give voice to them, so that I (and maybe others) can articulate more clearly our lived experiences, not merely as biological existents, but as people, individuals, lovers of life, people who really live, right until their final (type 1) breath.
If matter and energy are tiny in comparison to the infinite nothing of the Universe, then life, which we only know to exist on this planet, is preposterously scarce. And I put it to you, the way our species, but one of millions of species of life, behaves as a result of its nihilism, indicates to me a global famine of aliveness, making it likely the rarest existing thing in the entire Universe. It is aliveness in all its forms that is divine; it is therefore the thing most at risk and therefore the thing most worth fighting for and protecting. As custodians of the divine, this is our task.
Graeme Walker, 26th February 2021
Please cite my work.
* Given that (a) no one knows why dying (type 1) and death occur and (b) that no one is able to measure at what exact point living and dying (type 1 and 2) starts or ends, I have not factored in these points when considering the above definitions.
** As a depressive I can vouch for the latter.
† Obviously, a matter for future research.
