The diverse measures of life
What is the measure of one’s life? Is it our work: the amount we have washed, chopped, fixed, mopped, edited, mended, healed, or taught? Our production: economic, artistic or reproductive? Our care of people, animals or the environment? Our influence: how much our agency has affected the world and its inhabitants? Perhaps it is our ecological impact; say, the size of our carbon footprint, the trash we remove from waterways or the limits we put in our lifestyle. Or our gifts to others: philanthropic, spiritual, physical or philosophical. That is, how we reinforce our connection over a cup of tea, in massage, in the veges we share from our garden, the donation we make or the guidance we give. Are our lives ever measured by how much pleasure we experience?
Is the measure of our life absolute or relative? If economic production is absolute, then the heiress that maintains a fortune is more valuable than the living wage forged by a first generation entrepreneur. If measures are relative to opportunity, starting position, or as a response to misfortune; then the milk powder shared in a life-raft is more valuable than the chocolate shared at Christmas.
Does our measure count intentions, actions or outcomes? If a poor person has a smaller carbon footprint by necessity, do they get the credit? Do unanswered prayers count?
I ask these questions reflecting on two funerals I have attended to mark the passing of two different people: my grandmother and my grandfather-in-law. Both died at almost the same age. My grandma was born in 1913 and died in 2000. My grandfather-in-law was born 1929 and died in 2017.
My grandmother was a feminist icon. She travelled the world, had three husbands, one child, a career in advertising in the 1930s and was very social. She was an early 20th Century (western) adopter of yoga. By modern notions of a ‘good life’, hers was certainly full of pleasures and interesting experiences. She worked hard and was open to new ideas. Yet less than 10 people attended her funeral including myself and her son. What did her life amount to?
My grandfather-in-law travelled only once — to Queensland as a youth. He lived his life in the same community he was born in, did pretty much the same thing every week — training horses — and had 500+ people at his funeral including his five children, twelve grandchildren and some of his great grandchildren. He delivered eggs to his neighbours and community. He cared about people, horses and animals and sought to help them enjoy their best-life. The Catholic priest at his service called him a holy man, a virtuous man.
It is hard not to suppose that a person’s life can be measured by how many people come to mourn their passing and what is said of them. But, not everyone can be a social contributor in terms of having children, or fostering relationships. When considering one’s life, there are a diversity of measures. Which ones will you strive towards or meet incidentally on your path?
