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​Self-death as a Symbol of Radical Freedom

Farhan Shah
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Recently, one of my friends took his own life. It is indeed a tragic event that has left me reflecting deeply on the nature of human existence and the radical freedom inherent in our condition. Johan Wolfgang von Goethe rightly says that ‘suicide is an event that is part of human nature. However much may have been said and done about it in the past, every person must confront it for himself anew, and every age must come to its own terms with it.’ 
 
Goethe’s remark expresses a profound truth: Self-death, in its profound and painful finality, stands as a stark symbol of our radical human freedom and the uncertainty that accompanies it. It represents a rupture in every necessity, an act that defies the most fundamental instinct of self-preservation. This capacity for self-destruction negates narratives that are predicated on "naturalness" and predetermined paths. As long as we possess the ability to negate the most essential drive—the drive to continue living—every reference to any necessity seems misplaced, perhaps even evasive. The choice to end one's own life is the ultimate assertion of autonomy, a declaration that transcends the biological imperative to survive. It challenges the notion that our lives are bound by unalterable necessities, revealing instead a profound existential freedom and self-creativity. 
 
In light of this, the narratives that rely on the assumption of inherent drives and natural paths, or those approaches that pathologize this inherent capacity and possibility, appear inadequate. They fail to account for the profound autonomy each of us holds; an autonomy that can defy even the most powerful of instincts. This capacity forces us to confront the reality that human existence is not bound by necessity but is instead a continuous exercise of freedom and choice emerging from the creative abyss from which all possibilities flow. 
 
As I reflect on my friend's radical decision, I am struck by the depth of human freedom. It serves as a reminder that our existence is not a series of inevitable events, but a tapestry woven from choices, however difficult and painful they may be. It is a somber reminder of the weight of our freedom and the profound uncertainty that accompanies it. As an extension to the abovementioned reflections, one question that needs to be met head on, revolves around the telos and meaning of this radical choice. That is, what is the underlying desire and reason that can lead to this radical decision? On this point, the metaphor of ‘the dark night of the soul’ seems educative and valuable.  

The dark night of the soul 
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The notion of the "dark night of the soul" originates from the writings of the 16th-century Spanish mystic St. John of the Cross. It describes a period of profound spiritual desolation, during which an individual feels abandoned by God and confronts an intense inner turmoil. This confrontation, often depicted as a crucial part of spiritual development, involves deep suffering and a sense of loss, yet it can lead to spiritual growth and a closer union with the divine. 
 
Here, the distinction between symbolical death and literal death is crucially important: 
 
Symbolic death in the context of the dark night of the soul refers to the dissolution of one's false personas, old beliefs, and attachments. This process is metaphorical, representing the end of a former way of being and the beginning of a transformed existence. The suffering endured during this period serves as a crucible for personal and spiritual growth. This transformative journey, while profoundly painful, is ultimately purifying and enlightening, leading to a renewed sense of purpose and spiritual clarity. 

In contrast, literal death refers to the physical cessation of life. When individuals feel extreme despair and hopelessness, particularly during a dark night of the soul, they may grapple with thoughts of suicide or death wishes. These thoughts emerge from the overwhelming sense of loss, emptiness, and the perceived absence of meaning or hope. However, while the dark night of the soul is an intensely challenging process, its ultimate purpose is to guide individuals through their suffering toward a deeper understanding and connection with the divine or a higher sense of self, ideal, vision or myth.  
 
The dark night of the soul can, unfortunately, intersect with thoughts of suicide and death wishes due to its profound psychological and emotional impact. Individuals may feel that the pain is insurmountable and that the only escape is through ending their life. However, understanding the dark night of the soul as a symbolic journey can help in reframing this suffering. It emphasizes that the intense despair is a passage toward greater spiritual awakening rather than an end in itself. 
 
The dark night of the soul, when understood and processed symbolically, leads to a "rebirth" or a renewed sense of life. In contrast, suicide results in the irreversible cessation of life, devoid of the potential for growth and renewal (here cultural and religious sensitivity is important). Nevertheless, the dark night of the soul represents a profound existential and spiritual crisis that challenges an individual to confront and transcend their deepest fears and attachments. While it may evoke thoughts of death and despair, its true nature is that of a transformative journey. Recognizing this can help individuals find courage and meaning in their suffering, distinguishing the symbolic death of old identities and beliefs from the irreversible finality of literal death. However, 'the descent into hell' is devoid of any metaphysical certainty. The journey itself is fraught with uncertainty and angst because we can never--as long as we are living—develop immunity to the perpetual, lurking threat of non-being. 
 
I wonder how many people could have been alive if they chose to undergo a symbolical death rather than the literal leap into nothingness. While it is impossible to know how many lives could have been saved through the symbolic death process – or if someone actually desire symbolic death – the potential impact is significant. 

To those in the throes of existential turmoil, your pain is real, your struggle profound. In these moments of deep despair, the thought of leaping into nothingness may seem like the only escape.  Yet, amid the darkness, there lies the possibility of a different path – a process of symbolic death. This path does not diminish your existential suffering, your despair and anguish, but furnishes a way to transform it. However, whatever you may choose, your choice, your agency, is honoured, for it is born of the depths of your very existence. 

In the shadows deep where sorrows weave, 
A choice emerges, hearts believe. 
To end the pain, or face the night, 
And find within a guiding light. 
With trembling hands, we shed the old,  
Embrace the dark, the stories told. 
Courage blooms in whispered breath,  
Choosing life, defying death. 
Ego`s shroud begins to tear,  
A soul reborn through silent prayer. 
In the ashes, hope will rise, 
A dawn rebirthed from tear-streaked eyes. 
The path is steep, the journey long,  
Yet through the pain, we grow strong. 
Symbolic death, a sacred fight, 
Leads us from the darkest night.  
 
 
Farhan Shah, philosopher, Ph.D.  

​For Those Left Behind

A Process Commentary

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Farhan Shah does not want to encourage self-death or suicide. However, he also does not wish to dishonor the person who makes the choice to end their life. He aims to affirm the freedom and autonomy of their decision amid whatever dark nights they face. Implicit in his affirmation is a respect for them as persons, as subjects of their own lives and not merely objects for others.

As a Whitehead-influenced theologian, I completely share that respect. I, too, have had friends that have ended their lives.

For my part, as I think about them and miss them, I consider two other factors that play a role in thinking about suicide. One is the fact that anyone who ends their life affects others as well. We are relational beings even as we are autonomous. Any decision to end our lives influences our friends and our families (including our children), forever, and often in painful ways. Our autonomy is not absolute or isolated. Our act, for deeply personal reasons, does not belong to us alone. It also belongs to those who are affected by our act.

The other factor is the fact that, inwardly, we yearn for freedom from suffering and for a peace, a harmony, that is so often beyond our reach but is part of our autonomy. Our autonomy is not simply a given fact; it is also a yearning, a desire, a hope. There are many situations in which the act of self-death or suicide is an expression of this desire, a response to it. People end their lives not only in affirmation but also in hope that, after doing so, the suffering will end and, perhaps, peace can be found.

For my part, as a Whiteheadian, I share that hope for them and with them. In an odd way, their suicide is mine, too. Not only are they related to me, I am related to them. I hope that the journey of a soul in time does not end with the death of the body or the brain, but rather continues afterward, guided then, as in this life, by a deep and divine lure for peace. Those of us who are left behind, left with our sadness, can feel this hope.

In our affirmation of the dignity of those who leave us through self-death, we can also affirm a hope that, in their immediate circumstances, may be dim but powerful. It is the hope that an end can also be a beginning. Suicide is a powerful word, but it may not be the last word. There are deeper realities, deeper hopes, that transcend us but are also within us, as our innermost desire for peace. Those hopes are within our friends that end their lives, and within us. They are part of our shared humanity.

As we affirm this hope, however, we must (as Farhan Shah emphasizes) recognize the radical freedom of their decision: a freedom we cannot and ought not deny. For Whitehead-influenced thinkers like me, there is a metaphysical truth behind this recognition. This metaphysical truth is creativity.

Creativity as Self-Creativity in the Moment

In Whitehead's philosophy, creativity is the ultimate reality of the universe, rather than God as traditionally understood. God is real, but God is not the ultimate reality. The ultimate actuality, yes, but not the ultimate reality. Even God is in the grip of creativity.

Creativity is  the "creative advance into novelty" and the "self-creativity" of each actual entity. An actual entity, according to Whitehead, is not a substance that endures unchanged over time; it is a single moment of experience, or an "occasion of experience." This occasion is itself a "subject" of its experience, meaning the subject is not a detached spectator but is actively involved in self-creativity, along with the feelings and aspirations (subjective aims) inherent in the experience.
Human beings, then, are understood as a series of moments of experience, a series of subjects. We are not one person enduring unchanged over time; we are the many persons we become in the moments of our lives. When someone decides to end their life, the act is seen as the self-creativity of that moment, aiming for an end to suffering and seeking peace, whether understood as oblivion, sleep, cessation, or a different form of continuing journey. This decision, while deeply saddening to others, belongs to the individual in that moment.
For the Whiteheadian, God is present within each person as an inner guide or lure toward optimum self-creativity, which can well include a guide, a prompting, toward peace. Judging how a person seeks peace, whether through self-death or self-continuation, is less important than honoring the desire for peace itself. In a spirit of love, it is crucial to understand and recognize that people in times of great suffering understandably seek peace, just as we do. Who among us does not seek peace? The seeking is part of our shared humanity. When we are left behind by those who end their lives, there is no need for condemnation. Sadness? Yes. But condemnation? No. The shared humanity is our guide, and it is in this sense of sharing that God is found.


​- Jay McDaniel