What does it mean to live a full life? I had to learn, yet again recently, that the answer is heartbreakingly complex.
This week, we had two gentlemen who died a few hours apart on the same morning. They were both English speaking, they both had pancreatic cancer, they were both married with children, they were both Christians, and they both had blue eyes.
But one man was 95 and the other was 35. I am battling with the fact that one man had an additional 60 years to live a life, and I can’t help but think that the other man was robbed. I battled when I saw Simon, the younger man’s two young sons sitting with their feet in the pool. It was a glorious day.The sun was dancing on the clear water and the picture seemed a horrid contrast to this sad and awful reality these kids were now facing.
I greeted them and sat beside them. I also took my shoes off and let my pale feet float in the water. I wanted to tell them it is going to be okay, but I knew I’d be lying. They suffered a cruel and horrible loss. I just sat with them; our silence bearing witness to this tragedy.
We know life is not fair, but when this disparity presents itself to you on an average Thursday morning, it hits hard. I started wondering how you would justify this. Where in the universe can things balance out if we cannot use the linear simplicity of years? How could this young man’s life be measured so it has the same weight as a man who has lived 95 years? Just imagine the older man, Fred and what he lived through! Fred lived through the entire Second World War, the Korean War, the Vietnam War, our border war, and the Cold war, to name a few. He was 18 at the start of Apartheid and lived 31 years post-apartheid. He saw the first moon landing and the invention of antibiotics like penicillin. He experienced the entire decolonization of Africa. Fred lived through the fear of unknown viruses like AIDS and COVID and also saw the world overcome it. I cannot even begin to think of the technological advances he lived through. He lived in a world where everyone seemed to be straight and in one now in which the LGBTQ+ movement has expanded to include a wide range of identities. He grew up in a world of scarcity. He died in a world in which fast fashion and extreme consumerism are the new religions, and our obsession with having things is destroying our oceans and earth.
I asked ChatGPT and some other AI bots how one can measure a life. I was surprised at the amount of beautiful quotes and lessons an artificial lifeless intellect could teach me about how life can be measured: “A meaningful life” Google told me “ is therefore best measured by the love given, good done, relationships nurtured, and the sense of purpose maintained each day.” I agree, but we know that is not what happens in reality. Lives are measured in much more obvious ways.
If you ask a capitalist, maybe he would say one can measure a man’s worth in Rands and cents. I’m sure you can, but I’ve never seen any person in the last hours of their lives ask to look at a share portfolio, and between you and me, the world’s first trillionaire, Elon Musk, looks pretty damn miserable to me. Hedonists could say that maybe Simon’s life was filled to the brim with adventures, pleasure and abundant excitement, and we would all have been jealous of his Instagram feed. Getting to know him over the past few weeks however, he doesn’t strike me as someone who went on more than the odd trip to Ballito and did a Contiki tour when he was young. Simon did not have any degrees, so academically, I’m not sure if his life would carry much weight. I know some of my smart friends chase the published papers and letters behind their names, but does having all that academic acclaim really count for anything right in the end?
There is a book by Bronnie Ware called, “The top five regrets of the dying,” which she based on her experience as a palliative care nurse. She unpacks what she has learned from the wisdom her patients shared with her. I think the purpose of her book is to get her readers to live more authentically,to prioritise relationships over material wealth, and to be brave enough to be yourself. In a nutshell, these were the five regrets she saw most often:
“I wish I’d had the courage to live a life true to myself, not the life others expected of me.”
“I wish I hadn’t worked so hard.”
“I wish I’d had the courage to express my feelings.”
“I wish I had stayed in touch with my friends.”
“I wish I had let myself be happier”.
What would you regret if today were your last day? What really matters to you?
These questions are challenging to consider and even more difficult to put into action in our lives in a meaningful way. How can we actually avoid these regrets? Maybe by intentionally investing time and energy for loved ones and nurturing relationships. (That does not mean sending a meme on Insta!) We can make time for friends and keep in touch, even if we are all so busy. Maybe we can allow ourselves to be vulnerable and express what we feel. This is hard, I know, especially as we are all supposed to be “living our best lives now.” It’s probably daunting to live in alignment with your passions and dreams, and not follow the road carved out for you by society. Perhaps we can allow ourselves to think outside the box and to find our tribe. I am a big believer in journaling (so is my niece and one daughter). Clever people say that regular self-reflection helps to identify what is important and helps cultivate gratitude for small and big blessings every day. Setting boundaries seems like another practical thing we have to learn to do better if we don’t want to end up full of regrets. Especially when it comes to work, don’t let your career overshadow joy, rest and meaningful experiences. I also believe- passionately – that we need to search out opportunities to be kind to others:o volunteer, to serve and to give generously. Be part of something bigger than yourself. Something that will outlive you.
I suppose, in the end, we cannot measure a life by years lived, wealth gained or achievements listed on paper. In people’s final days, they talk about honesty, happiness and friendships. Whether a life is long or short, I think its true value lies in how authentically it was lived, the people whose lives were touched and changed, and how safe people felt around you. I have learned from Fred and Simon that though their stories are so different, yet so similar, we don’t, in the end, have the luxury of neat answers. Life does not seem fair, legacies are shaped differently, and we all only have now. Let’s do our utmost to cherish it as we should.