The Shadow of Mortality
“The irony of man’s condition is that the deepest need is to be free of the anxiety of death and annihilation; but it is life itself which awakens it, and so we must shrink from being fully alive.” ~Ernest Becker
We are uniquely cursed with the awareness of our own mortality. This knowledge casts a shadow over our lives, a quiet dread that philosopher Ernest Becker described as the root of existential angst. Most people repress this angst. They bury it or ignore it. Which makes it worse. Forced into our subconscious, it festers and growls and darkens.
In his seminal work, The Denial of Death, Becker argued that the fear of our inevitable end drives much of human behavior, shaping our cultures, ambitions, and even our neuroses. We are animals who know we will die, and this awareness creates a tension that both haunts and propels us. Yet, within this tension lies the potential for transcendence—not by escaping death, but by redefining our relationship with it.
But the tension must be self-actualized, the darkness must be made conscious, death must be reconciled. Willful ignorance is the choice most people make, but if we want to be fully aware, if we want to be healthy of mind and soul, if we want to be whole, we must resolve our existential angst.
The Weight of Existential Angst:
“The confrontation with death—and the freedom to choose one’s attitude toward it—gives one the chance to live authentically.” ~Rollo May
Existential angst arises from the collision between our desire for meaning and the apparent indifference of the universe. We crave purpose, yet we are confronted with the finitude of our existence. This dissonance can manifest as anxiety, despair, or a restless search for significance. As Becker noted, humans are “gods with anuses”—creatures capable of sublime aspirations but tethered to the fragility of the body. The awareness of death is not just a background hum; it’s a force that shapes our psychology, often unconsciously.
This angst is not merely personal but collective. Societies create elaborate systems—religions, ideologies, nation states—to shield us from the void. These systems offer narratives of permanence, promising that our lives matter in some grand, cosmic sense. But when these narratives falter, as they often do in a skeptical, fragmented world, the shadow of mortality grows darker. We are left to face the question: If death is the end, what makes life worth living?
We are worms with halos, “gods with anuses,” cast into the abyss without a life jacket. All our cultural conditions dissolve away like outdated skin and all we’re left with is the raw, bleeding-meat reality of cold hard truth. We will die. The universe is pointless. It’s up to me to resolve this. What do I do?
Immortality Projects:
“Art is a reverberation of an impermanent life.” ~Rick Rubin
Becker’s concept of “immortality projects” offers a lens to understand how we cope with this existential dread. Unable to accept our impermanence, we seek to transcend death symbolically by attaching ourselves to something greater. These projects take countless forms: creating gods, building empires, making art, amassing wealth, or even raising children who will carry our legacy. Each is an attempt to inscribe our name on the fabric of eternity, to deny the finality of death by leaving a mark that outlasts us.
Yet, immortality projects are a double-edged sword. While they can inspire greatness—think of the pyramids or Michelangelo’s frescoes or an anthropomorphic God—they can also lead to destruction. Wars, crusades, and ideological fanaticism often stem from the same impulse: the need to affirm one’s group, cause, or identity as eternal and superior. Becker argued that much of human conflict arises from clashing immortality projects, as we defend our fragile sense of significance against others’ competing claims.
Even on a personal level, these projects can trap us. The pursuit of fame, status, or legacy often becomes a distraction from living authentically. We may spend our lives chasing symbols of immortality—likes on a post, titles on a resume, medals on a chest—only to realize too late that they don’t quiet the deeper ache. The paradox is that our efforts to escape death can prevent us from fully embracing life.
Transcending the Human Condition:
“When we are no longer able to change a situation, we are challenged to change ourselves.” ~Viktor Frankl
If immortality projects are flawed, how do we transcend the shadow of mortality? The answer lies not in denying death but in integrating it into our understanding of existence. Philosophers, mystics, and psychologists have long pointed to a path that involves confronting our finitude head-on, using nonattachment as a catalyst for meaning rather than despair.
Embrace mortality as a teacher. Bow at the feet of Death and let him guide your life. The Stoics, like Marcus Aurelius, practiced memento mori—the deliberate reminder of death—to sharpen their focus on what truly matters. By meditating on our impermanence, we can strip away trivial distractions and prioritize relationships, creativity, and acts of kindness. Death becomes a compass. It clarifies our values, urging us to live with intention rather than drift through life on autopilot.
Shift from independent ego to interdependent connection. Elevate yourself above the battlefield of the human condition through nonattachment. Becker’s immortality projects often stem from the ego’s need to assert itself; whether through religion, empire building, creating art, or revering a nation state. Nonattachment, however, comes from dissolving the ego’s grip and connecting to something larger—not in a grandiose way, but in the quiet intimacy of mutual relationships, interconnected nature, and shared purpose. Meaning emerges from our interconnectedness with all things without the need to own any part of it. This meaning doesn’t erase death, but it makes life feel fuller, more immediate, and more authentic.
Find meaning in the absurd like Albert Camus did. Refuse to succumb to nihilism by embracing the absurd. Sure, the universe is inherently pointless. But there’s nothing preventing you from being on point, despite. Find joy in the act of living, even without cosmic guarantees. Rebellion against despair is itself a form of transcendence, a defiant choice to create meaning in the face of mortality.
Don’t squander the role of awe and wonder. Imagination and curiosity are powerful ways to create meaning despite the absurdity of mortality. Modern research in psychology, such as studies by Dacher Keltner, highlights the power of awe to shift our perspective. Experiences of vastness—whether through art, nature, or contemplation of the cosmos—can make our individual mortality feel less crushing. Awe reminds us that we are part of a larger whole, a universe that is indifferent but also breathtakingly beautiful. This doesn’t solve the problem of death, but it reframes it, inviting us to marvel at the miracle of existing at all.
Living Under the Shadow:
“‘Fate’ was only a mask, as everything is a mask that is not death.” ~Emil Cioran
The shadow of mortality is not something to be banished but a companion to be understood. Our fear of death drives both our greatest achievements and our deepest flaws. Immortality projects, while seductive, often lead us astray, tying our worth to fleeting symbols rather than the richness of the present. They all too often become golden idols.
True transcendence comes from facing death with courage, weaving it into a life of connection, purpose, and wonder. This can include immortality projects, of course. Just projects built with cautious skepticism. Write a novel. Paint a mighty fresco. Have kids to carry on with your legacy. Build the next great wonder of the world. Just don’t attach your ego to it. Let it flow. Do it with soul. Then let it go. It’s all procrastinating dust. It’s all death just waiting to happen. It’s all under the same looming shadow. You’re still a god with an anus, a worm with a halo, a question without a mark. Breathe! Then breathe out.
In the end, the human condition is defined not by our mortality but by how we respond to it. We may never escape the shadow, but we can learn to walk beside it, finding meaning not in spite of death but because of it. As Rainer Maria Rilke wrote, “Perhaps all the dragons in our lives are princesses who are only waiting to see us act, just once, with beauty and courage.” Mortality is our dragon—and in meeting it with grace, we transcend.
Image source:
By Rinat Khabirov
About the Author:
Gary Z McGee, a former Navy Intelligence Specialist turned philosopher, is the author of Birthday Suit of God and The Looking Glass Man. His works are inspired by the great philosophers of the ages and his wide-awake view of the modern world.
This article (The Shadow of Mortality) was originally created and published by Self-inflicted Philosophy and is printed here under a Creative Commons license with attribution to Gary Z McGee and self-inflictedphilosophy.com. It may be re-posted freely with proper attribution, author bio, and this statement of copyright.
Comments
