re: Leave your house or die
The heart of Leave your house or die is a call to embrace life. But the author asks of those who don’t leave their homes, “Aren't you just slowly killing yourself? How is slowly dying preferable to actual death? What's the point of living if you're not living?”
I’ve spent years mostly housebound with chronic illness and have asked myself those questions in despair—such despair that if I’d read this post even six months ago, I might not be here now. People deep in grief and pain can’t always read disclaimers when the rhetoric runs headlong into their wounds.
So I’m writing in case others need to hear this: “Leave the house” is one person’s frustration with certain people she loves, not a reflection on you. There’s more than one way to embrace life.
Here are the things that currently make my life living:
- The people I love, who have accompanied me in illness for decades. Accompanied, not judged. (I’m fortunate—many of us struggle alone.)
- My deepest values. Getting down to bedrock—not aspiration, but the die-hard bases for my decisions—has helped me see how astonishingly resilient my values are. I still question, explore, go off the beaten path, try to be fair. I don’t have to find meaning—it shows up in every choice I make. Recognizing something I value in every moment has been huge.
- Paying attention. Haiku has encouraged me in this. Simone Weil called attention “the rarest and purest form of generosity.” Generous attention is a way of not being a fair-weather friend to my own life.
I’ve stood on other pillars that have held up or not: religion, Camus, pragmatism. They change. Life changes all the time.
We are all only temporarily able-bodied. My ability to read, write, and think come and go. I’ve learned not to base my love of life on what is contingent. My pillars are currently sturdy enough to hold up my life indoors or out.
Are they sturdy enough for all time? I don’t know. I feel like I lucked into them as it is: the right combination of symptoms easing, therapy, medication changes, and time to find my current, more-or-less stable balance. But I do know I can (eventually) pivot when life demands it of me again.
If limitations are making you wonder whether your life is worth living, I encourage you to reach out—to help lines, forums, support groups, friends, anyone. Your life’s value doesn’t depend on your capacity.