Death is the one truth every human shares, yet it remains the topic most of us prefer to avoid. In a culture obsessed with youth, achievement, and longevity, it can feel uncomfortable, even taboo, to speak openly about mortality. But when life forces us to face the fragility of our existence, through illness, loss, or the simple passing of time, we begin to ask the questions that matter most: What is the purpose of my life? How do I live meaningfully, knowing that I will one day die?
These questions form the core of existential thought. They are as old as philosophy itself, yet they remain intensely personal for each of us. Thinkers like Søren Kierkegaard, Martin Heidegger, and Jean-Paul Sartre all viewed mortality as central to the human condition, not as something morbid, but as the very foundation for authentic living. For Kierkegaard, the awareness of death pushed the individual toward a deeper confrontation with the self, calling them into a more truthful and inward form of living. He believed that only by facing our finitude can we make the “leap” into a life chosen with sincerity rather than habit. Heidegger argued that death is not merely an event at the end of life but a constant horizon shaping every moment of existence. By recognising our “being-toward-death,” we are jolted out of everyday distraction and into a more authentic engagement with the world. Sartre viewed mortality as a reminder that we are radically free, responsible for creating meaning in a universe that offers none in advance. Because life is finite, every decision becomes an act of self-definition, revealing who we choose to be.
The Personal Encounter with Mortality
While philosophy offers intellectual insight, mortality becomes real only when we experience it personally, when someone we love dies, or when our own health falters. These moments strip away distraction and routine. They remind us that life isn’t something that happens in the abstract, but in the raw, immediate present.
A powerful example of this transformation comes from Viktor Frankl, the psychiatrist and Holocaust survivor whose book Man’s Search for Meaning has influenced generations. Frankl observed that even in the most dehumanising conditions, people could find meaning, not through what happened to them, but through how they responded. He wrote, “Everything can be taken from a man but one thing: the last of the human freedoms, to choose one’s attitude in any given set of circumstances.”
Frankl’s insight turns mortality on its head. Instead of seeing it as the end of meaning, he saw it as the soil in which meaning grows. When we realise that life is temporary, we are invited, perhaps compelled, to live deliberately.
The Paradox of Acceptance
There’s a strange paradox at the heart of mortality: the more we accept death, the more vividly we live. Denial, though comforting, keeps us disconnected. We rush from one task to the next, planning for “someday,” and miss the life that’s unfolding right now. But those who have faced mortality often describe a renewed clarity: colours seem sharper, relationships feel deeper, and gratitude becomes more natural.
This doesn’t mean romanticising death or dismissing the pain it brings. Rather, it means allowing the awareness of mortality to awaken us. When we stop pretending, we have infinite time, we tend to focus on what truly matters, love, kindness, creativity, and connection.
Modern Psychology and Ancient Wisdom
Interestingly, modern psychology supports what ancient spiritual traditions have long taught. Terror Management Theory, a branch of social psychology, explores how awareness of death influences behaviour. While it can create anxiety, it can also motivate people to live more authentically. Those who acknowledge mortality tend to report higher life satisfaction, stronger relationships, and a clearer sense of purpose.
The world’s wisdom traditions echo these findings. Buddhism encourages reflection on impermanence as a way to reduce attachment and deepen compassion. Stoic philosophers like Seneca advised contemplating mortality daily, not to depress oneself, but to remember how precious each moment is. And poets from Rilke to Hesse have celebrated transience as the very essence of beauty, romanticising impermanence rather than fearing it.
Rilke expressed it in The Book of Hours:
“Let everything happen to you: beauty and terror.
Just keep going. No feeling is final.”
Hesse conveyed a similar insight in Siddhartha:
“Everything changes and nothing remains still.
You cannot step twice into the same river.”
Living Meaningfully Today
So how do we find meaning in the face of mortality in our everyday lives? It doesn’t require grand gestures or spiritual breakthroughs. Often, it begins with attention. When we pause long enough to notice the world, the warmth of sunlight through a window, a shared laugh, the taste of coffee, we begin to live in direct contact with life rather than merely moving through it.
Connection also plays a central role. Mortality reminds us that people, not possessions or status, are what remain, if not physically, then through the echoes of love and memory we leave behind. Writing a kind note, helping a friend, or simply being present with someone who is struggling are all quiet acts of meaning-making.
Creativity, too, offers a bridge between the finite and the eternal. Whether we paint, write, sing, or garden, we engage in acts that affirm life even as they acknowledge impermanence. In doing so, we contribute something uniquely ours to the world’s ongoing story.
A Final Reflection
In the end, facing mortality is not about seeking answers, it’s about asking better questions. It invites us to live with intention rather than illusion, to love more fully, and to participate in the fragile, fleeting wonder of being alive.
Death may set the boundaries of our existence, but within those boundaries lies infinite possibility. And perhaps that is the greatest paradox of all: that by accepting our impermanence, we discover the timeless meaning of life itself.
Jurgen Schwarz
December 2025