Siddhartha Gautama, more commonly known as the Buddha, once said that “Everything is changeable, everything appears and disappears; there is no blissful peace until one passes beyond the agony of life and death.” The finite and fleeting moments of life are made more precious by the very nature of their impermanence, and the promise of change adds color to life, allowing us humans to experience emotions in more powerful waves. After all, it is death that unites all people; no human can outrun their own impending end. Morbid? Perhaps. But the simultaneous elegance that is tied to this shared ultimate ending is the link to human connection. Time is finite, moments with loved ones are limited, people can only pursue so many goals, and one can only enjoy so many morning cups of coffee. Death pays no respect to wealth, ethnicity, race, gender, or any background. As Utnapishtim says, “‘What is there between the master and the servant when both have fulfilled their doom?'” (107).

There is something so inherently human about our own mortality, which is a notion often suggested through our depictions of immortal beings. We often characterize mythological Gods, vampires, and fairies as unfeeling beings, without a drop of sympathy for suffering. Even in the Epic of Gilgamesh, Utnapishtim’s story of the flood shows the flippant decision by the Gods to extinguish the human race on the basis of noise levels. Immortality leads to the loss of the value of life, countering the naturally human instinct to value and preserve it. This concept illustrates the association of death with our very humanity, demonstrating the idea that our mortality not only connects us all, but also adds value to life. Perhaps if permanence truly existed, sunsets would not be as beautiful and a cool summer breeze would not be as refreshing. The small and beautiful moments of life are more complete and precious by the very nature of their limits.

The concept of unpredictability also inherently divides the dead and the living. Upon his own impending death, Enkidu states, “‘What is this sleep which holds you now? You are lost in the dark and cannot hear me'” (95). While the life of the living is unpredictable and impermanent, the dead can “rest” and “sleep” in peace, demonstrating another way that we humans characterize death.

Although human life itself is indeed finite, we often find ourselves searching for ways to prolong our legacy beyond our time. Children are often seen as the promise of the future and a way to extend one’s legacy past their own death. Many religions seek to establish a sense of peace regarding death, whether it be a theory on the afterlife or a promise of entrance into Heaven. Our attempts to create a lasting effect on society and come to terms with our ultimate end highlights a human struggle shared by all. After all, if a king who is two-thirds “God” can struggle to accept his mortality, certainly a full human must be allowed to grapple with this concept. Perhaps it is a quest that each individual must pursue, on their own timeline and in their own way.