Death, Legacy and Your Facebook Wall
January 23, 2010Daniel No Comments »I lost a good friend last week when she committed suicide. I found out about her death when people started writing posts on her Facebook wall like “Goodbye” and “I hope you’ve found the peace you were looking for.”
A slightly weird way to find out that my friend had passed away, I thought.
I was saddened and shocked, and I still am, over her death. It’s painful to know that she’s gone—just like that. But I think a part of me felt shocked, too, because I was once again confronted with my own mortality. I was reminded that even though I’m in my 20s and I don’t have any health problems, I am one day going to die. If you were to ask anyone, “Do you think you’re going to live forever?” you will most likely get a reply that goes something like “Of course not—we’re human.”
But it is one thing to believe in your head that all humans eventually die, and it is another to have someone look you in the eye and say, “You are going to die. You are certainly going to die.”
I once read a psychology paper about people who try to evade death by engaging in death-defying activities like skydiving and bungee jumping. The paper argued that these activities are not “death-defying.” Rather, they are “death-denying.” We all know that we are mere mortals, but we often acknowledge this fact without actually coming to terms with it. Thus, participating in “death-denying” activities provides us with an avenue to further convince ourselves—in the subconscious realm—that we can escape death.
Over the past two years I’ve gone white water rafting, hang gliding, paragliding, skydiving and bungee jumping. Every time I complete a skydiving or bungee jumping attempt, I feel a little bit more empowered, a little bit more fearless, a little bit more immortal. I understand why some people constantly pursue stunts or activities that are literally life-threatening. It’s not just about the adrenaline rush or the adventure; it’s primarily about the accompanying sense of immortality, the feeling that death does not have a hold on you. I now recognize this as a foolish pursuit founded on an escapist mindset that leaves you with a sense of emptiness whenever you are not getting your quick fix of pseudo-immortality.
So when I learned of my friend’s death, I was reminded that there is no avoiding it. Since death is a reality for all of us, the question to ask ourselves is not “What can I do to make myself feel more immortal?”
Rather, we need to ask the question: “What do I want my life to count for?”
In “Repacking Your Bags: Lighten Your Load for the Rest of Your Life,” authors Richard Leider and David Shapiro found that most people’s number one fear is having lived a meaningless life. We all want to leave behind a legacy that is unique and special. I don’t believe there is such a thing as a “perfect” legacy. Maybe you want to be remembered as a loving and generous person, or maybe you want to be remembered as a passionate person who helped to further a humanitarian cause, or maybe you want to be remembered as an intellectual who changed the way the world thinks about an issue.
But whatever it is that you want your legacy to be, you should be living every single day of your life building it. It’s a bit too late to start thinking about your legacy when you’re on your deathbed as it is not built in a day, but day by day.
On my deceased friend’s Facebook wall, there were many posts which described what a kind and warm person she was. Her legacy is her kindness and warmth—and I have no doubt that her life counted. It feels kind of strange to say this, but I guess our legacies will be summed up by what people write on our Facebook walls when we pass away.
What would you like your friends and family to write on your Facebook wall?
For me, I’d like people to write posts describing me as a man who really loved life and who really loved lives– just like the tagline of this website. My friend’s sudden death has caused me to make a recommitment to building this legacy day by day. Moreover, I want to fully come to terms with my mortality, for I believe that it is only when you are fully ready to die that you are fully ready to live. Eventually I’m going to die. In the meantime, I want to build a life that counts. And I want to really, really live.
To my friend whose life of kindness and warmth burned out far too soon, I look forward to that day when we meet in heaven. Until then, your legacy will echo for eternity here on earth.
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