When Breath Becomes Air: What Makes Life Worth Living in the Face of Death?

As we begin a new year, I am immensely grateful for the book, When Breath Becomes Air by Paul Kalanithi.

I read this book whilst in the hospital during Christmas time. Having fallen ill with meningitis, I was unable to see loved ones, and I was especially heartbroken to the point of being tearful several times every day for not being able to see our gorgeous two-year-old daughter. I had always felt like I didn't need reminding of how precious life is. And yet here I was, reading this book, steeped in sadness, recognising that we don't know when life will end and should treasure and be present in every moment of each day.

Which is why this is one of the most moving books I have ever read.

At the age of 36, on the verge of completing a decade's training as a neurosurgeon, Paul was diagnosed with inoperable lung cancer. He passed away a year later. The epilogue by his wife, Lucy, had me in tears for almost all of its thirty pages.

There was a real weight to which Paul writes in exploring what makes a meaningful life. His role as a surgeon often left him with the responsibility of deciding on behalf of people with serious injuries what kind of life is worth living. He reflects that sometimes they saved lives that, really, they should not have saved, for the person would not have wanted the life they were left with.  It is moving, powerful, provocative in parts, and most of all, painfully beautiful.

A new year can be a psychologically significant thing. This year feels extra poignant for me, given I am still unwell as I write these words, that I have only just felt the effects of being apart from my daughter and, at one point, feeling so unwell that I was fully aware of my own mortality.

If I take anything from Paul's gorgeous book, it's that life really is too precarious and too precious to waste. It was for this reason that the stoics often carried a Memento Mori medallion. The coins were designed with the intention of carrying them in your pocket as a literal and inescapable reminder that “you could leave life right now.” In Meditations, Marcus Aurelius wrote “You could leave life right now. Let that determine what you do and say and think.” It was a personal reminder to continue living a life of virtue now and not wait (taken from The Daily Stoic).

I hope 2023 and every year after is when I choose, and we choose, to live in the present moment, to not take anything for granted, and to not waste time on tasks that bear no love or kindness.

Good luck and great blessings to you all this year :)

Benjamin