For no reason discernible to me, I dreamt last night about the right of a parent to choose whether a baby should live or die. In my dream-world, couples frequently traveled to countries where child-euthanasia was legal. This killing was considered merciful--both as a means of population control and for lessening the burden placed on families and society.

As a phrase from a recent film made clear, we are often told to "choose life". Death is not an option, we hear; you must keep fighting, keep growing, keep expanding. Death is stagnation, decay, a burden on the system. But should we choose life at any cost? Our little planet is overrun with people, and feeble attempts at population control can't hope to compete with the deeply felt message that continuous production is the key to happiness. Bigger, better, faster, more... The siren song of progress leads us onwards even as it lulls us to sleep. We are unaware of our own limits; we hide from our own mortality.

More important than life, I believe, is the freedom to choose death. And along with it, the wisdom to allow death when necessary. To be able to let go of the desire for growth, to be at peace with finitude and decline. After all, if we cannot allow others to choose death, what hope can we have for peace with our own inevitable end?