You Can’t Take It with You
There’s nothing quite like a funeral to make you ponder the meaning of life.
I’ve been to more funerals in the last few years than I care to admit. Each one is familiar and yet unique. I’ve noticed that my favorite ones are for people who have tried to live a good life. A life that was full of service to others. Those funerals are filled with joyous memories, cheeky stories, and tearful goodbyes that seem to focus more on how we’ll miss that person instead of what that person will be missing. Sometimes, however, the circumstances are different. A funeral for someone who was taken too soon has a completely different feeling. You still share stories, but you also mourn the loss of what else could have been. It’s achingly hard.
How do we define the value and attributes of a life well lived?
Last weekend, I attended the funeral of my husband’s grandmother. She was 91. Her funeral was one of the former types I mentioned above. This humble lady did not have grand wealth or fame. She didn’t make a huge contribution to the workforce, wasn’t a content creator, and wouldn’t be someone you’d ever see trending online. She was, however, a person with an incredible capacity to love, serve, and worship. She also had a good dose of southern sass. Those that knew her, knew of her love. I don’t know if I can recall a time when she wasn’t either surrounded by family and friends or was preparing to go see some family and friends (usually with some sort of tasty southern food concoction on hand). She knew true richness, connection, and purpose and she lived it every day.
In the stress/wellbeing literature, you can find Aristotle’s concept of Eudaimonia. In some places, Eudaimonia is contrasted with Hedonism. However, they are not opposites, but they are related. Hedonism can be called the pursuit of feeling good or the pursuit of pleasure. Eudaimonia, on the other hand, is the pursuit of a life well lived. Hopefully there is some feeling good in a life well lived, but to live a good life also means sometimes sacrificing feeling good in the moment for a better long-term gain. Corey Keyes, in his book, Languishing, describes Eudaimonia as “functioning well.” From the first time I was exposed to this term, I have been fascinated by it. In today’s world, there is so much that pushes us toward “feeling good.” Advertising and new products promise you the opportunity to feel good all the time and if one product doesn’t work, we should just try another one, right? Unfortunately, the pursuit of feeling good without any higher or longer-term goals can leave us feeling empty or hollow because feeling good does not last. Not only that, but often after we’ve gotten an initial hit of feeling good from something, we will need more of it the next time to feel that same way again. The pursuit of feeling good all on its own is an insatiable and dangerous thing.
You Can’t Take It with You is an old Frank Capra movie (based on a play by the same title) that I fell in love with as a teenager. The basis of the story centers around the son of a wealthy banker who falls in love with the daughter of a delightfully eccentric family. The plot thickens when you discover the banker wants to acquire the eccentric family’s home for a real-estate development. Despite the chaos, including fireworks, and slapstick jokes, the end of the movie has a surprisingly endearing message. Although the characters sit with the temptation of significant amounts of money and the pressure to try and please those in power, we discover that the most valuable things this family has is not it’s home or property, but instead are the relationships within their family (quirks and all), their community, and the memories that they create together.
As we look at a life well-lived, let’s make sure we are not overly valuing the things that you “can’t take with you” when life is done. Not only do these kinds of possessions or fleeting feelings of pleasure get left behind when a person moves on, but they often lack true meaning during life as well. They can provide satisfaction and comfort but will not be enough to provide full meaning and purpose. I hope that a life well lived will mirror some of the takeaways I had at my husband’s grandma’s funeral. I want a life that is rich in love, connection, and purpose. I believe those are the valuable things that you will take with you after your journey here.
Thanks for reading with me today. I hope you find true richness in your world today.