Washington Post Op-Ed: My Death Is Close at Hand. But I Do Not Think of Myself as Dying., by Paul Woodruff (University of Texas; Google Scholar):
How often do you think about death? “Every third thought,” said Shakespeare’s avatar Prospero in the last line of the last speech he gives in Shakespeare’s last play, “The Tempest,” aside from the epilogue that follows the play. My friends say they think of death at least as often as Prospero. I do, too. If we think about death so much, we ought to know what to think about it. Philosophy is supposed to have answers, but the answers we hear most often from philosophers are not good for us. “Live every day as if it is your last,” we are told. “Remember that you are on the way to death each day.”
A friend recently wrote an email message with this line in it: “Paul is dying of a lung infection.” He had meant it for someone else, but he had misdirected it. That sentence infuriated me. I do not have a lung infection. My death is close at hand, however, because of a lung condition called bronchiectasis, and I am on oxygen day and night. But I do not think of myself as dying. I am living each day with as much life as I can put into it. For me, that means going to bed each night planning at least one project for the next day — something worth getting out of bed and living for. As I think of dying, I make each day a time for living, for having something to live for. …
I know I will die soon. But must I be miserable about it? Why not find a cause for joy in each day? Some corner of my mind always knows that sad thoughts lurk behind my projects. But my dying will be much harder on my loved ones than it will be on me. Survivors often think they have failed to keep their loved one alive. I want my survivors to know that death is not unwelcome to me, although I want to be living each day. There’s nothing wrong with dying. All the best people in history have done it. Let foolish philosophers see themselves as dying every day. Thinking of death, I choose life.
Dallas Morning News Op-Ed: My Mentor Is Dying. Now What Am I Supposed to Do?, by Curtis Sparrer:
Please forgive me, but I’m writing this in something of a teary daze. You don’t get many mentors whose thoughts and words resonate throughout your career. You don’t get many who lift you up at the very moment you need it the most. And you don’t get many who announce they’re dying and say they’re not so bothered by it, while at the same time they’re worrying about … well … you. …
The Washington Post just published this story: My death is close at hand. But I do not think of myself as dying.
Four hours later, I was on the phone with the author, Paul Woodruff.
When I met Paul, he was the director of the Plan II Honors Program at the University of Texas at Austin. I was a freshman, smarting from the misplaced shame that I was not enrolled in an Ivy League school. I thought UT was a football team with a university built around it, and feared I would be left behind by my high school classmates who were accepted by Princeton and MIT.
Paul made those misgivings disappear. Don’t ask me how. Don’t even ask me why he wanted to. All I know is that he changed my life. …
I was a watery blob by the time Paul finished his piece. … I called Paul immediately and got his voicemail. “Hey Paul,” I started, taking a gasp before choking into sobs, unsure what to say next. “I just read your story in The Washington Post.”
Before I could properly chide myself for leaving such a watery message, Paul called me back. His first words: “Hi. Catch me up on how you’re doing.”
A great mentor thinks about you, even when they may have bigger things on their mind.
Washington Post Op-Ed: As My End Nears, I Crave the Soul-to-Soul Connection of Seeing Friends in Person, by Paul Woodruff:
My good friends know that my end is near. Several of them have flown from far away to see me in Texas. They come for an hour or two of conversation, and then they fly home. That’s an expensive visit, and time-consuming for them. Why aren’t they satisfied to see me over the internet? I offer them that way out, but they insist on the trip. Why?
My friends tell me the internet is not a healthy place to develop friendships. I agree. …
I am delighted that my friends are flying in to see me from far away. They warm my soul. And having such good friends keeps me honest with myself and others. We do not come together to say goodbye. We come together to know each other better, right now, as we are at this hour, today. Each visit brings a growth of understanding in real time. I am very lucky to have such friends.
They are right to come in person. In actual presence, they can hold my hand, stroke my brow. At the end of my life, if they were trying to see me through the internet, they would fail. That dying thing will not be me. I am who I am through my actions, and dying is not an action. It is a happening. At the end, I will have no comfort in being observed. At the end, I cannot be seen. I want to be touched.
Washington Post Op-Ed: How I Learned to Heal My Soul, With Help From Love and Socrates, by Paul Woodruff:
The soul’s beauty is all too easily tarnished, and the soul itself can be fractured. I learned this the hard way, in a combat zone in South Vietnam in 1970. I used to think I was one of the good guys, but on my return I fell into self-loathing.
I was plagued by memories of two friends whom I had been unable to protect during a night battle. My helicopter pilot and I both made mistakes, and perhaps we could not have saved them even if we had done everything right. But years later I would have visions of my two friends looking up into a dark sky for the help I did not bring. …
Doing what you believe to be wrong leaves your soul divided against itself, and that sort of division is agony — the worst kind of agony, according to Socrates, because, he said, your soul is the most important part of you. …
Socrates was right. The most important thing about us is our soul. If you have ever been truly in love, then you have been attracted to the beauty of another person’s soul. Happily, as people age, the health of souls becomes ever more apparent, shining through faces that are lined and wrinkled. Do as Socrates urges: Nurture your soul and help others nurture theirs. In this season of love and friendship and caring, pay attention to beauty of soul, and help it flourish. It is what matters most.
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