What makes life worth living in the face of death?

Photo of Paul Kalnithi taken from here

As we begin a new year, I find myself deeply grateful for Paul Kalanithi’s When Breath Becomes Air.

I read it while in the hospital over Christmas. Meningitis had left me too unwell to see loved ones. The hardest part was being apart from our gorgeous two-year-old daughter. I was heartbroken and tearful most days. I’ve always thought I didn’t need reminding of how precious life is. Yet there I was, feeling the truth of its fragility more sharply than ever—and how vital it is to be present for every moment we’re given.

Paul Kalanithi was just 36 when, nearing the end of a decade of training as a neurosurgeon, he was diagnosed with inoperable lung cancer. He died a year later. The epilogue, written by his wife Lucy, left me in tears for almost every one of its thirty pages.

There’s a gravity to his writing, a deep stillness. As a surgeon, Paul often faced decisions about what kind of life was worth preserving. He reflects that sometimes they saved lives they shouldn’t have—not because of error, but because the life left behind was not one the person would have chosen for themselves. His words are moving, provocative, and painfully beautiful.

Reading them while feeling unwell myself added a different weight to every sentence. At one point over Christmas, I became fully aware of my own mortality.

If there’s one lesson I’ve taken from Paul’s book, it’s this: life is far too fragile, and far too precious, to waste.

That’s why the Stoics carried Memento Mori coins - reminders they could leave life at any moment. Marcus Aurelius wrote, “You could leave life right now. Let that determine what you do and say and think.”

It’s a call to live not someday, but now.

So my hope for this year, and every year after, is to choose presence. To notice the moments we might otherwise rush past. To refuse to spend time on what carries no love, no kindness, no meaning.

Thank you for reading, take care, and good luck with everything you’re focused on.

Benjamin

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I want to be thoroughly used up when I die, for the harder I work, the more I live