In Search of Wisdom
In Search of Wisdom is a podcast for seekers and curious minds interested in tools for the art of living. Join the search with J.W. Bertolotti and leading thinkers in philosophy, theology, and everything in between.
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“Think Like a Mortal”
In this episode of In Search of Wisdom, I reflect on a previous letter titled Think Like a Mortal and explore what it means to live an intentional life. I discuss how realizing that we are “dying every day” can help us live in the present moment and lead more meaningful lives.
Key Takeaways
The wisdom of accepting life’s eternal truths
The paradox of uncertainty
The need for constraints and limits
Happiness (and Life) is in the present
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Episode Transcript
About a year ago, I published a meditation titled Think Like a Mortal. It was part of the weekly Letters to a Young Seeker series. In the meditation, I attempted to discuss what it means to live an intentional life and how realizing that we are “dying every day” (in the words of Seneca) helps us to live in the present and ultimately lead meaningful lives.
On today’s episode, I'm going to revisit this letter, reflect on it, and expound on some of the paradoxes surrounding this idea.
Dear Fellow Traveler,
It’s interesting to think about how unique we all are. Truly one of nearly eight billion people. Yet, at the same time, we are the same. We are all mortals.
For this reason, philosophical and spiritual traditions alike have spent significant time writing and contemplating about death. The maxim, “Think as a Mortal,” is one of the 147 ancient sayings inscribed upon a stone monument at Delphi. These reflections and emphasis on mortality could seem grim today for some. But similar to other maxims, like “Know thyself” or “This too shall pass,” these pithy words of wisdom help us accept life's eternal truths.
In this sense, the American philosopher Nic Bommarito (author of Seeing Clearly) writes, it’s a bit like when a therapist helps their patient work through unpleasant realities to better deal with them. As with the therapist, the point isn’t to dwell on upsetting or traumatic stuff but to face such facts responsibly—in the right way and with the right mindset.
Thinking like a mortal has much to do with remembering. The ancient practice of memento mori simply means remembering that death is inevitable. Some of the most straightforward Buddhist practices around death are simple reminders. In the Tibetan tradition, some will set their cup upside-down before bed, acknowledging that they may die in their sleep and not need the cup anymore. Then, when they wake up in the morning, they’ll turn it over again, lucky to get another day.
Did you feel lucky when you woke up this morning?
One figure who faced death head-on was the sixteenth-century philosopher Michel de Montaigne. As Montaigne puts it: “All the wisdom and reasoning in the world boils down finally to this point: to teach us not to be afraid to die.” In his book The Socrates Express, Eric Weiner writes, “Montaigne was a Skeptic, in the word’s original meaning: not a naysayer who punctures the ideas of others for sport but a doubter in search of truth.”
In one of his Essays, titled To Philosophize is to Learn How to Die, Montaigne wrote, “We do not know where death awaits us: so let us wait for it everywhere. To practice death is to practice freedom. A man who has learned how to die has unlearned how to be a slave.” Montaigne thought avoidance of death comes at too high a price. We can’t live fully, he says, without facing death.
Four words neatly summarize Montaigne’s philosophy and way of life: Que sais-je: “What do I know?” Death is certain. It is one of the few things Montaigne knew for sure. Yet, when death knocks is uncertain. As Marcus Aurelius wrote to himself, “You could leave life right now; let that determine what do, say, and think.” The key word is “could,” death can happen at any time; there’s not even any certainty between this breath and the next.
Meditating on our mortality (and the uncertainty of life) can be unsettling. But it is important to remember that we are not alone. Everyone around you is also mortal. “Mortal creatures live lives dependent on each other,” observed Montaigne, “like runners in a relay, they pass on the torch of life.”
Farewell.
The Paradox of Limits
One of the paradoxes around thinking like a mortal is understanding that limits or constraints are actually what makes life meaningful.
In his book Life is Short: An Appropriately Brief Guide to Making it More Meaningful, Dean Rickles (another previous podcast guest) makes the following point:
In all cases, there is an interplay between limit and possibility, but also with freedom. We think of limitations (especially death) as things that disrupt our freedom precisely because they remove possibilities. This book argues otherwise. Paradoxically, limit gives birth to freedom. … The game of life must contain boundaries. And a good thing too. While we are seemingly squeezed by our lack of unlimited possibilities (i.e., our short lives), an unlimited being is squeezed in other ways: it would simply not have any means to enjoy a meaningful existence as we do. It is an existence as boring as the game with no rules in which there is nothing to act against and nothing to act for. […]
Reflection Exercise:
Consider reflecting on that for a moment. Imagine playing a board game with friends and family, except there are no rules and no actual end to the game. Or think about watching your favorite sporting event without time periods, rules, referees, etc.
Happiness (and Life) is in the Present Moment
Another counterintuitive idea is that life only exists in the here and now. Seneca’s point is that we think death is in the future, but it’s actually happening right now. Every moment we are alive, we are also simultaneously dying.
The philosopher and historian Pierre Hadot explains in Don’t Forget to Live the importance of living in the present:
Despite the profound difference between Stoic and Epicurean doctrines, one can discern, underlying the two doctrines, an important analogy in the experience of the present. It can be defined as follows: Epicureanism and Stoicism privilege the present over the past and especially over the future. They made it a principle that happiness must be found in the present alone, that an instant of happiness is equivalent to an eternity of happiness, and that happiness can and must be found immediately, right now, at once. […]
Final Thoughts
The question is, “How do we embody this wisdom in daily life?” Montaigne might respond with nothing or simply continue to live.
In one of his essays, he said, “I want us to be doing things, prolonging life's duties as much as we can. I want death to find me planting my cabbages, neither worrying about it nor dying.”
We must each ask ourselves, “What do we want death to find us doing?”
For Montaigne, it was planting his cabbages, not worrying. We all have to wrestle with these types of questions. We must remember that our mortality (at least in this life, depending on your beliefs) can help us lead our lives!
To quote Marcus Aurelius again,
Don't act as though you were going to live for 10,000 years. Fate is hanging over your head. While you live, while you can, be a good person.
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Thank you for listening; I hope you found something useful.
Until next time, be wise and be well,
J.W.
P.S. If you enjoyed the conversation, please take a moment to subscribe and leave a review on Apple podcasts or Spotify.
Fabulous essay! Thank you so much! I agree with everything you say. My dilemma is, now that I am 82 years old, I’ve lived a good life and I’m still enjoying life very much. I really don’t want it to end. Of course no one does. The other troubling aspect for me is that I don’t want my consciousness to end. I can deal with the mortality of my physical body, but I’m concerned that there might not be nothing afterwards. That is what causes me pain. And obviously by me just saying this it exposes a void spiritually. As Thomas Aquinas said “for those with faith, no explanations are necessary, to one without faith, no explanation is possible.
What a paradox! But so true.