There is one thing in the world that motivates me. It is neither the fear of failure nor tangible goals for my future. It is not an insatiable desire for large sums of disposable money or even my own passion for the material I am learning at present. The only thing in this vast world that motivates me is the fear of dying not once, but twice. Now, it may seem satirical, as no human can actually die twice, but it is not the physical death that I fear. Until my last breath, I will spend my life in attempts to outrun my second death, the death where I, and the life I have lived, are forever forgotten.
Ernest Hemingway once said, “Every man has two deaths: when he is buried in the ground and the last time someone says his name. So, in some ways, men can be immortal.” Now, I hear my boyfriend and our friends talking about the subject of mortality and death when discussing their next essay or class discussion, and I feel the gears of my mind turning. How do we actually determine one’s death? While death from the perspective of Hemingway establishes almost bookends to mark your time both spiritually and physically on Earth many other philosophers and authors have contributed their own theories and perspectives to the conversation. Questions regarding where one may go after said death, or if death is merely the next step in a cyclical sequence of existence are frequent within these circles. There are so many different speculations that even hearing the word sends my mind into a frenzy, diving deeper and deeper down the rabbit hole of the question, “What if…?” But, each time death is brought up, I find myself always returning back to one simple idea: How could I truly die if I am immortalized on Earth?
Sitting by our desks, preparing for the future, we find ourselves being educated by the words of the past. As we read in our books about the people who once roamed the Earth, we find that despite no longer being physically present their presence lives on. Take Leonardo de Vinci, Alexander Hamilton, Plato, or even Adolf Hitler for example. Each of these men did something in order to become a name that nearly every person knows. Some created brilliant works of art and literature, some wrote financial systems into existence, and some committed heinous crimes against humanity—yet they are remembered. They are immortal.
When I say that I fear my second death, I fear becoming someone who will fade from the memory of my loved ones, even generations after me. I fear my name and life slowly being forgotten and vanishing from existence like dust in the wind. But as I said before, this fear is the one thing in this world that motivates me. I demand myself to push the envelope of what my mind can do and to surge past it, all in pursuit of immortality.
While we never know what truly lies around the corner of the road our life will take, it is important that we keep it all in perspective. Although I may be confident in the life I’m living, I still have to live it. My fear of dying twice is that motivator for making the hard decisions as well as the easy, the balance that helps me factor in risks when I chose what path I might take, and ultimately who and how I love. Because I know that no matter how it all ends and whether my name lives on for a couple of generations or a couple of hundred years, I want to live to the absolute fullest I can, taking in every moment, and valuing every precious second.
Mind of a Freshman is an Opinion column written by one or two first-year Stevens students to discuss life experiences during their time at Stevens, and other related subject matter.
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