What follows is a pondering on death or a philosophy of death. Precisely, because it will be weird to be dead!
From the beginning here, let me make several things clear. First, I am not talking about the afterlife. I am a Christian and believe my soul will go to heaven when I die. Second, I am not suicidal. Well, at least no more than usual. I have long had the diagnosis of "suicidal without intent." This writing is in no way a cry for help. Please do not refer me to a suicide hotline or call 988 or 911. Third, I am not terminally ill. Well, at least no more than we all are. So, this is not a "last will and testament."
What I want to explore in this thought piece, or philosophy of death, is the idea of no longer existing in this plane of existence, as it goes on without me. That is a difficult and weird concept to ponder. In this article, I will explore why the idea of being dead feels so alien. I will examine death from the perspectives of biology, physics, philosophy, and everyday experience. I will try to find a way to make sense of the strange feeling that "I am gone, but the world goes on." I hope it will prompt you to think deeply as well.
The Human Narrative of Continuity
Humans are storytellers. From the earliest cave paintings to the latest streaming series, we have a deep instinct to weave our lives into a narrative. We remember our childhood, our first job, and the day we met someone special. We see ourselves as the protagonist in a story with a beginning, a middle, and—ideally—a satisfying ending.
Because of this narrative drive, we can easily imagine the world before we were born. We can picture the Earth as a blue marble, the oceans as endless, and the sky as a canvas of colors. Yet, we still imagine the world as a blank page waiting for us to write our story.
Most of us do not have much trouble grasping history, the idea that reality or this world existed before we were born. Indeed, I love reading and studying history, and I have no problem grasping that I was not there. For this piece, let's set aside the idea of previous lives and reincarnation taught by some religions.
But when we try to imagine the world after we are gone, we hit a wall. Our story ends, but the world keeps going. The narrative we have built for ourselves is suddenly cut off, leaving us with a sense of disconnection. The world is still here, but we are not part of it. That's the core of the weirdness.
All of us know, on some level, that we will not be here forever. Death is not an unfamiliar concept to us. We have all lost family members and friends. We are familiar with phrases such as "every step we take is a step towards our grave."
Of course, death is a natural part of life. From a biological standpoint, death is the cessation of the processes that sustain life. The heart stops beating, the brain's electrical activity ceases, and the body's cells begin to break down. While we are embodied beings, we do not see ourselves as simply a body. We are more than the electrical brain activity. And that is the conundrum. If we are more than a body, we may well accept the death of our bodies, but what about the "I" or the "self?"
In physics, death can be seen as a local increase in entropy. The body's organized structure breaks down into a more disordered state. The energy once stored in the body is released into the environment, contributing to the universe's overall increase in entropy.
While biology and physics may explain the process of death, they do not get at the weirdness I am exploring. I suspect that, at least emotionally, we believe, or at least we live as if we will live forever. Perhaps to a degree, it is egoism or narcissism. Yet I do not think that is really the crux of it. We do not believe we are so important that time cannot go on without us.
I think it is more about questioning how our experience in this realm can simply end. How can it be that I don't continue? It feels like, at least since my birth, I have always been. So why wouldn't this experience continue?
There are also related dumb questions, such as, "What happens to my stuff?" A burglar would be very disappointed if they broke into our place. We have absolutely no jewelry. The TV is 10 years old. The most valuable thing to us is a very large, well-worn collection of plushie animals. Since we have never had human children, they are like children to us. However, I don't think they have any monetary value. There is a huge collection of books, with both of us having been professors. However, there are no rare books. There is, of course, furniture, some worn-out pieces, and other pieces in pretty good shape. I am not materialistic, but still, our condo is stuffed full of stuff. I wonder what will happen to all of it? Yes, I know the phrase, "you can't take it with you." But it still seems weird that I won't have it.
The Self as a Process, Not a Static Entity
One reason the idea of death feels so strange is that we tend to think of ourselves as a static, unchanging entity. We say, "I am a person," "I am a mother," "I am a teacher." But in reality, the self is a process—a continuous stream of thoughts, sensations, memories, and actions that are constantly changing.
When we die, that process stops. The brain's electrical activity ceases, the heart stops pumping blood, and the body's cells begin to break down. The "self" that we have been experiencing day after day is no longer there. The world continues, but the process that made us who we are is gone.
The Universe as an Independent System
The universe is a system that operates largely independently of any single individual. Think of a city: it has traffic lights, power grids, schools, hospitals, and a population that changes over time. The city's functioning does not depend on any one person. If a single person left the city, the city would continue to function, likely with little regard for the absence. The same is true for the Earth: ecosystems, weather patterns, geological processes, and human societies all continue regardless of whether a particular individual is alive.
The weirdness is the conflict between our desire for meaning and the indifferent universe. Death is the ultimate absurd event: we are gone, but the universe keeps going. The absurdity of death can be a source of anxiety, but it can also be a source of liberation. If the world does not depend on us, we are free to shape our own lives without the burden of being the center of the universe.
Embracing the Weirdness
Perhaps we simply need to embrace the weirdness. The idea that it will be weird to be dead is not a call to fear death, but an invitation to reflect on the nature of existence. Here are a few ways to embrace this weirdness:
Conclusion
The idea that being dead will be weird is a profound reminder of the strange relationship between the individual and the world. We can imagine the world before we were born by studying history. But we find it hard to imagine the world after we are gone, because we are used to being part of it.
Death is a natural, biological, and physical process that removes a component from a larger system. The world continues, the systems that sustain life keep functioning, and the universe keeps expanding. The weirdness of death is the realization that we are not the center of the universe, that our absence does not halt its progress.
By understanding death as a transition, a natural part of life, we can find a way to live meaningfully in the present while accepting the inevitability of our eventual absence. The world will still be there, and it will still be weird to be gone, but reflection helps us understand the weirdness.
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