This article was automatically translated from the original Turkish version.
Human beings, often at the very center of life, carry two things simultaneously: the knowledge of an inevitable end and the uncertainty of how to fill the time until that end. This tension between the certainty of death and the fluidity of life forms one of the most fundamental grounds for the search for meaning. Perhaps for this reason, humans can neither fully forget death nor remain entirely immersed in life. On one side, the silent reminder of finitude; on the other, the need to dissolve into the present moment. It is precisely this dual structure that inevitably raises the question: What gives life meaning—the awareness of death, or the genuine capacity to experience life itself?
The existence of death is the fundamental reality that defines the boundaries of life. From a philosophical perspective, particularly among existential thinkers, the realization of one’s own finitude is seen as rendering life more “authentic.” In this view, death is not merely an end but also a field of awareness that guides our choices. A person aware of their mortality tends to use time more consciously. Deferred decisions, unspoken words, and unexperienced moments become more visible under this awareness of finitude.
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However, the thought of death does not always serve a constructive function. Constantly dwelling on one’s end can drive the individual into a passive mode of existence. Psychological research indicates that awareness of death can, in some cases, increase anxiety and lead individuals to withdraw from daily life. At this point, death may cease to be a catalyst for meaning and instead become an element that overshadows life itself.
On the other hand, the concept of “remembering to live” comes into play. This is closely associated with what is frequently termed in modern psychology as “mindfulness.” It refers to focusing on the present moment, becoming aware of sensory experiences, and recognizing the value in everyday occurrences. In this approach, meaning is sought not in grand narratives but in small experiences—a sound, a scent, a shift in light. Life is often shaped by the sum of these micro-experiences.
Religious perspectives address this duality in a different way. In Islamic thought, remembering death (tefekkür-i mevt) is regarded as a practice of awareness that prevents excessive attachment to worldly life and fosters moral balance. Yet this remembrance does not aim at detachment from life; rather, it seeks to cultivate a more responsible, conscious, and measured way of living. Similarly, in many belief systems, life gains value through its transience—but this value emerges only when experienced through active awareness.
Thus, two distinct yet non-exclusive forms of awareness are at play here. Remembering death reminds us that life is limited; remembering to live cultivates sensitivity to how this limited time should be experienced. One provides the framework; the other fills it with content.
Perhaps the issue is not about drawing a sharp distinction between these two approaches or elevating one above the other. Rather, it is about the individual’s capacity to understand how and when these two forms of awareness come into play within their own existential experience. Awareness of death provides a sense of direction by reminding us of life’s limits; attention to life itself determines how that limited time is qualitatively experienced. In this context, meaning can be understood not as a static outcome but as a dynamic process shaped by the individual’s interplay between these two levels of awareness.
