I haven’t blogged an NYT "Modern Love" column in a few weeks: a combination of topics that have just not sparked a post and the rigors of weekend blogging.  But this week’s piece by Anne Marie Feld is quite poignant.  She recounts her mother’s mental illness and suicide, when Feld was only 16.  The death occurred on her birthday, had a lasting emotional effect on the young woman (as might be expected) but was  redeemed, in a manner, years later with the birth of her own daughter, who came into the world just four days after the fated birthday/death day. 

    The article made me think about the incessant cycles of seasons and births and deaths, especially at this time of year, Chinese New Year’s, when we look to move out of the darkness of winter and into the light of spring.  And that, of course, sent me back to the Tao Te Ching, which is rooted so firmly in the repeating patterns of nature.  This excerpt from passage 50 came to mind (from Richard John Lynn’s translation):

   We emerge into life, enter into death.
    Three out of ten are adherents of life; three out of ten are adherents of death; and there are three out of ten whose way of life also leads them to death.  Why is this so?  It is due to placing too much emphasis on life.

    This may seem a bit morose, but I think it speaks to the sad story Feld tells.  The line between life and death, for all of us, is thin.  From the very day we are born, the natural processes of our body are leading toward our end.  We can try to deny and resist this, but that is, ultimately, foolish.  How long we live, and how healthy we are, are, in large part, beyond our control. 

   The three in ten who are "adherents of life" will live long, healthy lives because fate and luck just happen to be on their side.  The three in ten who are "adherents of death" will die young because of forces beyond their control, forces external to them (the apocryphal "hit by a bus") or internal to them (the genetic or other processes that create mental illness or physical infirmity).   And that last third die younger than the might because they are too bound up worrying about how to live longer.

    The message here is straightforward: we cannot control how and when we will die (an idea which must be modified somewhat in the face of modern medicine), so, instead of worrying too much about how to avoid death, we should simply embrace and live the life that we have now.

    And there is something here for someone facing the shock and tragedy of the suicide of a loved one, like Feld: it is not your fault.  Guilt is a primary response to suicide, and survivors wrack themselves thinking about what they might have done to prevent it.  But, it is not their fault.  From the Tao Te Ching’s perspective, a victim of suicide was fated to die, was driven to the deed by uncontrollable dynamics.  Better to celebrate the life that was, and the lives that continue now, than to analyze the death that came.

    Spring is coming.  A new baby is born.  There is much around us to marvel at.