Mortality Reimagined: Going through Deleuze’s Encounter with Death

1 Introduction

A philosophy as profoundly attuned to the affirmation of life as that of Deleuze may seem, at first glance, an unlikely framework for contemplating death.^[1] Even the tragic circumstances of his suicide should not be construed as justification for such an inquiry, for an author’s work should be evaluated primarily on the substance of their ideas.^[2] Yet, upon closer examination, Deleuze’s thought extends far beyond a mere materialist philosophy. It offers a deep engagement with the concept of death, weaving it into the fabric of life.^[3] In his brief treatise on “Pure Immanence,” Deleuze articulates a transcendental field distinct from empirical experience – one that neither refers to an object nor belongs to a subject.^[4] The transcendental field represents a life not of individuation but of singularization. Such a life harbors virtualities. For instance, a wound, as a possibility, is always already there in the field of virtualities, waiting to be actualized and existing before me as an individual. For Deleuze, the critical philosophical task lies in exploring these non-representable intensities and singularities, which are responsible for what we perceive and for the act of perception itself.^[5]

In the philosophy of Deleuze, it is crucial to reject any form of transcendence and to focus on real-world genesis instead of conditions of possibilities. Actual entities are manifestation points of a process that originates from pre-individual intensities, unactualized potentials or gradients, or an embryonic quantity in its own internal resonance. These intensities enter into external relations – relations that are not intrinsic to the intensities themselves – and give rise to individualized phenomena.^[6] Deleuze refers to the return to the pre-individual realm as “counter-actualization,” a concept closely aligned with the notion of de-individualization found in spiritual systems. The key distinction between Deleuze’s philosophy and these spiritual systems lies in his provision of an explanation for what he terms the non-representable. Deleuze resolves this apparent contradiction by positing a continuity between our actual existence and the pre-individual field of immanence, a field in which we are always already immersed, though unable to fully articulate it. This is revealed most vividly in limit experiences where identity fractures, allowing the hidden field of immanence to become perceptible. These moments expose the fluid connection between the intangible and the tangible, challenging fixed boundaries of understanding.^[7] To invoke Hegel, one might argue that our cognition is part of a process capable of self-comprehension.

What value does it hold for someone who has already engaged with the concept of death from a spiritual perspective to also delve into the Deleuzian notion of death, especially when the ultimate aim is to transcend it? A straightforward response is that, as beings who function within society, we are inevitably bound to a worldly dimension. Even if we attempt to recalibrate our lives through certain principles and ritualistic practices toward a higher spiritual goal, we remain influenced by the external world. This explains the frequent disappointments in monastic settings, where far more worldliness and ego are encountered than one might expect from the outside. Indeed, it is true that these are lapses for which we feel remorse, leading us to reflect deeply on our shortcomings. However, these lapses reveal a fracture within the self – a self that is more than just the conscious ego. This fracture is often exacerbated by the projection of an idealized future self, free from flaws, onto our current existence. A central thesis of this article is that we can address this fracture from an immanent perspective, one that does not pit the spiritual side against the worldly, but rather unites them in the shared endeavor of diminishing the ego.

Deleuze’s concept of “caesura” illuminates the fractured self, suspended between temporal representations.^[8] It is a term originally derived from poetry, where it signifies a deliberate pause or break within a line of verse, often creating a moment of reflection or emphasis. In a broader philosophical context, it symbolizes a fundamental interruption or hiatus within a continuous flow, leading to a moment of potential reconfiguration. The fractured self resonates with the idea that consciousness cannot exist without a unifying synthesis, yet this synthesis transcends fixed notions of individuality or personhood. Singularities, operating on an unconscious and immanent plane, serve as the true agents of unification – nomadic and impersonal principles that generate individuality and selfhood without being reducible to them.^[9] Hence, the underlying fragmentation is not a passive state but rather an active and dynamic condition that opens up the potential for transformation and agency. It is within the interstitial space, the caesura, that the self is empowered to engage in meaningful action.

Here, we set ourselves apart from approaches that either inherently locate spirituality within Deleuzian philosophy^[10] or see in postmodernism an ally in the sacralization of the world following the acceptance of the death of God.^[11] Such perspectives attempt to reconcile the divide by subsuming it into a single dimension. This tendency explains the frequent dismissal of Cartesian dualism. While such rejections may appear convincing, they often sidestep the persistent challenge of the mind-body problem, which reemerges in contemporary discussions on qualia.^[12] This persistence suggests that the rejection of dualism is frequently driven by ideological predispositions rather than rational discourse. Our challenge is to endure this internal divide, which forces freedom upon us. Unlike Hegel, Deleuze places less emphasis on such freedom.^[13] In his framework, the pre-individual plane of immanence is so foundational that the debate over whether we are determined by these forces or can consciously intervene seems almost secondary. Yet, Deleuze’s concept of counter-actualization acknowledges human freedom while emphasizing the limitations of conscious decisions.^[14]

In the end, the task is not to defend freedom at all costs but to acknowledge that we are compelled to act freely by the very internal divide that defines us. This divide is something we often seek to overcome too hastily, driven by the allure of something beyond us that seems to promise more than a freedom that often feels like a burden. The aim here, through an immanent philosophy, is to minimize illusions regarding ourselves. I argue that Deleuze provides a unique conceptual framework that allows for comprehension of complex phenomena like death, surpassing the explanatory power of other philosophical traditions such as phenomenology, hermeneutics, or analytical philosophy. Deleuze represents the pinnacle of a philosophy of immanence – one that, due to its acute sensitivity to the ineffable, can sometimes seem to exude a mystical aura. Especially, for those who do not seek transcendence, Deleuze’s thought offers a form of hope that starkly contrasts with the existentialist acceptance of meaninglessness,^[15] making his philosophy deeply compelling. Immersing oneself in Deleuze’s school of thought is to encounter the joys of life, coupled with the most rigorous critique of anything that seeks to transcend it. Once one has traversed this philosophical landscape, few things can divert the course from a path that ventures beyond mere immanence, transcending all its hopes and complexities.

In the following section, I will explore key concepts from Deleuze in relation to death, weaving them together into a cohesive perspective. From there, I seek to distill a distinctively Deleuzian view of death, which will serve as the basis for assessing its resonance with spiritual perspectives. This will allow for a critical evaluation of which elements may be affirmed within such paradigms and which aspects might necessitate rejection. Given that Deleuze’s ideas may not always be readily accessible within theological domains, I have chosen to deliberately reiterate the central aspects and nuances of his key concepts. This approach aims to make Deleuze’s profound insights more comprehensible to a broader audience.

2 Core Concepts of Deleuzian Philosophy Related to Death

In this section, I explore key concepts in Deleuzian philosophy related to death, incorporating significant insights from Brent Adkins^[16] and Shaun Stevenson.^[17] Before proceeding with an in-depth analysis, it is necessary to clarify the terms “ego” and “individual self” – concepts corresponding to the German Ich and the French moi. Unlike Freudian psychoanalysis, which distinguishes different components of the psyche, I use these terms interchangeably. Here, the “ego” refers to the entire scope of the subject’s conscious experience, not merely a constructed self-image. This aligns with the phenomenological understanding of the ego as a pars pro toto, where the ego becomes synonymous with the individual self. Furthermore, drawing on Deleuze, I conceptualize the unconscious not as a repository of repressed content but as a dynamic, collective process of production, representing the universal dimension of the subject.^[18] This allows for a simplified terminology, setting aside specific psychological distinctions that, while critical in psychoanalytic contexts, are less essential here. In addition to that, I use “we” as a shorthand for a general religious perspective.

Adkins explores the concept of death as intimately connected to desire and intensity. He argues with Deleuze that the intensity of a body is defined by how it can be affected and affect other bodies. This idea is captured by Deleuze’s metaphor of the tick, which, after exhausting its affective potential, reaches its peak intensity and dies. The body’s organization establishes boundaries that delineate its minimal and maximal potentials. Desire, seen as a primordial force for self-preservation (akin to Spinoza’s conatus), emerges before the formation of the self. It is connected to partial objects, such as the breast, and is embedded within both social and psychological dimensions, encoded within specific structures like the Oedipal complex in capitalist society. Within this framework, the death drive plays a crucial role in decoding desire, facilitating its transition by disrupting the structures that confine it. Adkins equates death with the death drive, viewing both as manifestations of anti-production – forces that focus on dissolution rather than self-preservation. This dissolution creates a continuum of internal and external intensities. Consequently, death and death drive cannot be reduced to mere null points of intensity; rather, they represent transitional states within the continuum of life’s intensities. This perspective shifts the understanding of death from being a mere cessation of life’s intensity to a profound transformation – a transition where death does not signify the end of life itself but rather the end of the directedness of desire.

Stevenson highlights Deleuze’s critical distinction between personal death and impersonal death in Difference and Repetition. Personal death pertains to the end of a specific life narrative, while impersonal death involves processes of change and transformation beyond individual existence. Here, death does not negate life but rather affirms a more fundamental, immanent life. This affirmation is not about individual life but about a singular, impersonal life that is intertwined with the death drive. The death drive, or Thanatos, represents a form of repetition that underpins the structure of consciousness’s time, which is structured through two syntheses: habit and memory.^[19] At a fundamental level, this means that consciousness operating in the present and grounded in the past can be detached from the involved series of events, which constitutes the fractioned I and an empty order of time, called the third synthesis of time.^[20] It is related to the death instinct because desire is now detached from the ego, desexualized, allowing intensities to unfold in whatever direction. This synthesis represents an empty order of time because the whole series of events is in view, where order plays no role. The concepts of the human game and the divine game further elaborate this perspective. In contrast to the human game, the divine game has no pre-existing rule and affirms all chance and regards of time (not just the present). Death, as a boundary between these games, allows for transcendence beyond the human, fostering novel forms of existence through what Deleuze terms the Body without Organs (BwO^[21]). This process liberates us from human-defined strata and encourages creative lines of flight.^[22] Hence, death’s significance lies in its capacity to generate novelty outside the conscious experiences.

These insights on death, potentially linked to the notion of palingenesis,^[23] underscore the importance of continuity, resonating with Bergson’s concept of “duration.”^[24] Duration, as Bergson envisions it, represents a continuous, qualitative flow of time that resists fragmentation into discrete units. It transcends the mere ticking of clocks and calendar days, embodying the lived, subjective experience of time – a seamless unfolding that captures the essence of existence. Deleuze extends Bergson’s ideas, proposing that virtual duration underpins and interconnects all phenomena, offering an interconnected ontology where the virtual and the actual are in constant interplay.^[25] Within this framework, death is not seen as a terminal event but as a manifestation within the impersonal virtual plane – a movement of differences that perpetually eludes definitive resolution. The virtual, which we grasp only via question-problem complexes, cannot be fully represented but can be conceptually approached due to our immersion within it. Similarly, the ego’s death is not a factual occurrence, but a problem situated within the virtual – existentially significant yet devoid of individual particularity. The fear of death arises from attachment to the ego’s manifestation, resisting the deeper flow of becoming that transcends the self’s boundaries. Continuity invites us to embrace the flow of existence, recognizing that the end of the individual ego is not annihilation but a return to the impersonal virtual plane.

3 Assessing the Deleuzian Death Concept

In this section, I will evaluate Deleuze’s concept of death in three steps. First, I will elucidate its defining feature, which I will term the fragmentation of the ego. Next, I will assess its potential spiritual utility and finally its limits. This analysis will reveal that, even in rejecting Deleuze’s objectives, his thought provides profound insight into our limitations, highlighting problems for which he may not have intended to contribute.

4 Practical Implications for a Religious Life

In this section, practical conclusions regarding prayer will be drawn from the preceding reflections. From a religious perspective, a central concept is that while the ego ultimately represents something to be transcended – since it separates the individual from divine truth – it nonetheless plays a fundamental role in the process of its own dissolution. Deleuze offers a similar view when he suggests that one should consciously yield to virtual energies, enhancing one’s capacity both to affect and be affected. For him, engaging with and producing philosophical concepts can contribute to this process. However, a key distinction exists for a religious individual: the aim is not merely to lose oneself in the intensity of experience but to discern and evaluate such experiences. This discernment requires a divine standard, allowing the individual to gauge and structure their engagement with intensity within a religious framework.

Prayer often forms the core of religious life, manifesting in a variety of expressions. In examining the following types of prayer, we will explore how a Deleuze-inspired practice might reinterpret or expand each form:

1. Prayers of Praise and Gratitude: These prayers center on expressing gratitude or exalting the divine for its greatness.

2. Petitions and Intercessions: Here, the individual seeks assistance either for themselves or others, addressing material or spiritual needs. This form emphasizes the relational aspect of prayer, underscoring trust in divine intervention or support.

3. Contemplative and Meditative Prayers: More inward-focused and silent, these prayers cultivate a deep, personal connection with the divine. The aim is to transcend ordinary consciousness and achieve a profound sense of unity or presence.

4. Prayers of Repentance: This form involves seeking forgiveness for personal faults or transgressions, serving as a means of spiritual purification and reconciliation. It emphasizes introspection and the desire for moral and spiritual renewal.

In prayers of praise and gratitude, the primary focus is on expressing thanks not only for blessings but also for challenges. This practice positions oneself as a vessel, shaped through divine influence. Often, the more difficult experiences shake the ego so profoundly that gratitude can serve as a calming force, fostering a sense of release and detachment. Although one may later rationalize these experiences as contributing to personal growth, as illustrated in the story of Job, this is not the primary purpose of gratitude. Instead, for genuine thankfulness, particularly under such conditions, the notion of “second death” proves useful. When intense emotions are no longer personalized (e.g., “why me?”) and are viewed instead as independent intensities, their negative associations begin to diminish. Experiences happen to us as part of a pre-existing virtual blueprint, one that we might better understand through an encounter with a “zero intensity” of the BwO, perceiving each event as a form of infinite potential. In such a state, we become grateful even for suffering, because suffering is recognized as part of a divinely ordained unfolding. For the religious individual, this isn’t about preserving a personal drive for life (conatus) or heightening one’s affective states. Instead, it involves recognizing every occurrence as a manifestation of the divine, one to be met with gratitude and praise. This shift from ego-centered concerns to gratitude gradually facilitates the dissolution of the self, aligning the individual with the divine whole.

Petitionary and intercessory prayers are often driven by secular or self-focused concerns. However, even in these requests, there is a fundamental recognition of dependence on divine grace, rather than attributing success solely to oneself. In daily life, we are typically so absorbed in worldly concerns that we tend to claim personal ownership of our accomplishments and thoughts. Yet, if we acknowledge that we do not fully control our mental processes or emotions – and that these draw from a kind of virtual or collective sphere – we are more likely to see ourselves as interdependent rather than self-sufficient. This perspective leads to a shift in the nature of prayer: instead of asking for specific outcomes for us or others, we may pray to align our lives with what best fits the divine order. In this way, prayer becomes less about concrete requests and more about attuning to a larger, transcendent plan. Such an approach resonates with Deleuze’s philosophical framework, in which God is replaced by singularities and prayer by a celebration of difference and creativity. In the face of life’s ongoing and unpredictable transformations, I cannot know what is ultimately “good” for me. Thus, any specific request is inherently limited. Nevertheless, the act of petitioning itself emphasizes my dependence, and perhaps through this humble acknowledgment, a new openness to transformation is born.

It is easy to claim, when one is in good health, that the most appropriate form of prayer is a selfless, devoted one in which no personal requests are made. However, there are many people who suffer so profoundly that their deepest wish becomes simply to end their pain, even if that means death. Their suffering becomes so intense that no form of relief seems sufficient. At this stage, the self seems to shrink to a point where all that remains is the agony, a state in which the wish for death emerges as a desperate cry for help rather than any spiritual longing for transcendence. The individual’s ego becomes absorbed in a single reality: unrelenting suffering. Thus, sedation or pain relief can play a critical role – not only in providing physical respite but also in deconstructing the rigid boundaries of the ego. Pain relief, in this context, can be seen as enabling the individual to view their suffering as one part of their experience rather than its entirety. As episodes of relief and intense suffering alternate, it becomes clearer that pain, although overwhelming, is merely a fragment of the whole self. This shift in perspective doesn’t necessarily stop the longing for an end of life, but it adds a more nuanced wish: a hope for what is genuinely best, whether that be life or release. Even in the depths of despair, recognizing that the ego should function as a witness rather than the central decision-maker marks an important stage of human maturity – a realization with implications beyond just religious belief.

Contemplative prayer appears, at first glance, to help in transcending the ego. Its purpose is to enter into the divine presence. Yet, even when one experiences a sense of connection, there often remains a feeling that this encounter offers little that can be translated into daily life. It is helpful here to think in fragments, too. What surrenders in prayer is often just a small part of ourselves – a part that we try to position as the decisive core or equate with the whole self. However, we soon realize that this approach is ineffective. More often than not, the contrast between the glimpses of selflessness in prayer and our usual ego-centered behaviors is so stark that it leads us to feelings of inadequacy or even self-rejection, creating a sense of something within us as unworthy of the divine. Paradoxically, this very tension is both accurate and revealing; it allows us to confront the complex duality of our nature as both flawed and divinely loved. We recognize our insufficiency, yet simultaneously understand that we have always been embraced by the divine. Only when we fully dissolve the ego in surrender to God do the aspects of sin and separation begin to fade. This duality is one reason why saints are often perceived with two dimensions: the earthly self, which continuously seeks forgiveness (as seen in Jesus’ humanity), and the ego-dissolved self that embodies the divine (as represented by Christ). Meditation, then, is only an initial step on a journey that requires divine grace to encompass and transform the entire ego.

This brings us to the topic of penitential prayers and the sinful aspect that resides within us. Experience indicates that atonement is rarely so thorough that it prevents the repetition of the same error; our impulses often overwhelm us, as if we lack control – because, in fact, we do. One of the critical insights derived from engaging with Deleuze is the banality with which the ego nests itself within a religious “common sense,” shifting between sin and purification without significant transformation of the inner life. If we approach penitence not merely as individuals bearing personal responsibility but as entities largely influenced by the surrounding processes, we find that it is insufficient to simply ask for forgiveness and strength to resist sin. Instead, we must seek to become part of processes that make sin increasingly improbable. These involve singularities that penetrate our instinctual structures, pulling us into realms that underscore the value of a virtuous life. The goal is not to strengthen the ego so that it may defend itself, but rather to beseech divine grace to serve as our protection. We recognize being on the right track through an enhanced capacity to be affected by religious themes, achieving a state of inner tranquility – mutmainna in Arabic. This calm contrasts with Deleuzian creativity, often characterized by restlessness and constant dynamism.

In summary, it is essential to recognize that various forms of prayer benefit from an awareness of the different processes involved in ego development. Rather than reinforcing a central ego, such prayers aim to engage the diverse facets of the self in increasingly meaningful and blessed processes. This approach fosters a more dynamic, living relationship with the divine, where the focus shifts away from a specific outcome and toward a present-centered engagement with God’s presence as it unfolds in the here and now. From a religious perspective, there remains a need for a central discernment function – one that distinguishes between what is divinely intended and what is not. However, this function acts more as a filtering mechanism than a controlling force over events. In Sunni Islamic theology, this concept aligns with Al-Ashari’s doctrine of kasb (acquisition), which articulates a nuanced form of predestination. According to this view, while all events unfold according to divine will, humans retain a participatory role by either accepting or rejecting these events.^[58] Although individuals lack true agency to alter or control what occurs, they are morally accountable for their responses to predetermined circumstances. This doctrine thus reconciles divine omnipotence with human responsibility, positioning human choice as a form of acquiescence or moral assent rather than as a direct influence over outcomes. Interestingly, this ostensibly conservative view bears a closer resemblance to Deleuze’s philosophy than to that of the rationalist Maturidi, who envisions a self-determined free will (ikhtiyar) with greater control over one’s actions and outcomes through a central instance.^[59]

5 Discussion

In philosophical literature, there is broad consensus that Deleuze’s notion of “impersonal death” is relevant to his philosophy, representing an entry into the infinite.^[60] Williams highlights this by noting that “pure difference is the only potential remaining for future repetition and reincarnation,” suggesting that what persists in us is what achieves a universal distinctiveness as an unrepeatable singularity.^[61] This impersonal death may even be conceived as an event on an individual level, where one can demonstrate worthiness by relinquishing a will that can no longer manifest itself in novel ways. Baugh’s analysis underscores Deleuze’s marked divergence from traditional existential and phenomenological perspectives, particularly those of Heidegger, who views death as an ultimate horizon defining human finitude.^[62] In contrast, Deleuze treats personal death as incidental rather than essential – something external to existence rather than central to human identity or meaning. Life’s value is not measured through the lens of mortality. Instead, life acquires meaning through immanence, the inherent vitality and affective force present in each moment of experience. Agamben’s analysis further extends Deleuze’s notion of immanence, particularly through the idea of “bare life” as a fundamental expression of existence, independent of external structures or imposed forms of limitation, underscoring life’s intrinsic value.^[63] The use of terms such as “reincarnation,” “infinity,” and “eternity” in these approaches is strikingly close to spiritual themes. However, it often remains unclear how these concepts impact individual human experience in relation to the prospect of death from an immanent perspective. Overall, I agree with the analyses but find the conclusions insufficiently fundamental, which prompted the writing of this article.

The significance of the “second death” in Deleuze’s philosophy can also be meaningfully contrasted with the notion of death within Hegel’s master–slave dialectic. In both frameworks, the attainment of a higher level of existence involves confronting a process that transcends and potentially displaces the individual, driven by forces beyond one’s control. In Hegel’s dialectic, the driving force is the need for recognition.^[64] He illustrates that self-consciousness cannot achieve self-certainty through mere interaction with the physical world, as it is perpetually constrained. It is only through engaging with another self-consciousness that consciousness can attain certainty without self-limitation. This form of recognition becomes so invaluable that individuals might be willing to face death. The slave, as the losing side in this battle, experiences dissolution into the generality of life without securing individual identity. However, this very dissolution provides an opportunity for self-affirmation and completion, thereby achieving new individuality through labor. This process bears a close resemblance to Deleuze’s concept of the second death, but for Deleuze, this second death is not merely the dissolution of individuality but a dynamic process involving the repetition and transformation of the self within an infinite play of possibilities and differences.

All this has both much and nothing to do with the first death. It bears significance because both types of death involve the relinquishment of the ego. However, the second death is irrelevant to the first death as long as the self persists. The self operates as a cohesive entity, despite experiencing intermittent discontinuities. Once this unity is lost, irreversibility sets in, precluding any possibility of an eternal repetition of the same difference. If humanity were to obliterate the entire planet, it would mark the cessation of all creativity known to us. The fear of an eternal void cannot be encapsulated by the second death, as there are no more pre-existing forces capable of facilitating continuous self-transcendence. This negligence echoes Deleuze’s engagement with Leibniz and Spinoza: he appears to uphold an interpassive faith in eternal substances while simultaneously rejecting such notions based on his philosophical stance.^[65] Deleuze’s immanent philosophy offers a compelling alternative to existentialism, rejecting transcendence while still providing hope through its engagement with life’s complexities, albeit one that remains blind to the potential heat death of the cosmos.

This highlights a crossroads between joyous atheism (à la Deleuze), nihilistic atheism, and spirituality, centered on how one engages with the concept of nothingness. Joyous atheism rejects nothingness as irrelevant and morbid, viewing it as potentially paralyzing. Following Spinoza, it asserts that dwelling on death undermines our capacity to act and must therefore be repudiated as harmful.^[66] Conversely, for nihilistic atheism, particularly in its existentialist form, the thought of nothingness is central. It involves enduring this reality without succumbing to hope. In this view, everything is deemed meaningless, and authenticity in life is achieved by enduring this meaninglessness and perceiving life as a form of rebellion against it. Spirituality, however, bridges these perspectives in a distinct manner. It acknowledges the meaninglessness of the world and rejects simplistic solutions such as a “leap of faith.” Instead, it opens up the possibility of a deeper connection to something greater than oneself, a connection that is not solely reached through belief. This search for transcendence is guided by experimentation and experience rather than blind faith. All three approaches are shaped by a profound, non-rational intuition, which determines their respective motivations and, in Deleuze’s terms, are carried by different pre-individual forces.

Whitehead’s cosmology can be considered to bridge the gap between Deleuze’s philosophy and spirituality by integrating both metaphysical and material dimensions.^[67] Deleuze describes the virtual as an endless realm of potentialities, yet it remains strictly immanent in the physical world. In contrast, Whitehead’s concept of “eternal objects” presents abstract potentials that exist independently of the physical realm and are apprehended through mental acts. These eternal objects introduce a space for transcendent possibilities. According to Whitehead, eternal objects shape reality through their realization in “actual entities,” which continually evolve through “prehensions” of both physical and conceptual potentials. In essence, each actual entity constitutes itself by incorporating these apprehended elements. Eternal objects provide abstract possibilities – such as the structure or quality of an experience – while physical elements represent the concrete facts of reality. Unlike Deleuze, who rejects teleology, Whitehead envisions the evolution of reality as a creative and directed process, where metaphysical potentials play a crucial role. However, Whitehead’s view of death itself remains ambivalent, caught between objective immortality, which refers to a state that persists into the past, and perishable subjective immediacy.^[68]

Despite the apparent differences between Deleuze’s philosophy and spiritual systems, it is striking how closely certain concepts from Sufism align with those of Deleuze. For instance, the notion of “second death” corresponds to fana fillah that signifies the dissolution of the ego into the infinite potential of the divine.^[69] Additionally, the Sufi distinctions between Hal (spiritual states) and Maqamat (spiritual stages) correspond to Deleuze’s first two syntheses of time. Hal, referring to transient spiritual experiences, reflects the immediate, repetitive practices that shape present states of consciousness. In contrast, Maqamat, representing enduring stages of spiritual growth, involves the continuous integration of past insights into one’s ongoing development. Furthermore, Deleuze’s third synthesis of time, Aion, resonates with the Sufi concept of Muhadara – being in the presence of God.^[70] Deleuze typically refrains from addressing the content of experience, concentrating instead on the mechanisms that generate novelty through difference. Despite this, he remains critical of transcendence, regarding it as inherently restrictive to philosophical inquiry.

The question of whether “difference” can only be adequately understood as an immanent concept should be reserved for future inquiry. What I find particularly noteworthy, however, is that Deleuze engages in a form of moral evaluation concerning what outcomes are deemed favorable or unfavorable. This stands in contrast to his primary focus on ethical considerations, which, following Spinoza, are concerned with being rather than with values. Central to this ethical inquiry is the question of what conditions optimize the realization of one’s power or capacity. However, what if a newly established relationship with God leads to an enhancement of such capacities? In this context, Deleuze, like Nietzsche, offers a broad rejection, rooted in historical analysis, suggesting that such a relationship would inevitably impose restrictive moral constraints. How can he assert that such a relationship precludes the comprehension of adequate ideas as effective problem–question complexes? He seems to lack the perspective to recognize the nuances in this area, largely because it appears to be of little interest to him. Consequently, counterarguments would have minimal persuasive impact.

In conclusion, Deleuze’s philosophy offers three fundamental images: difference-in-itself as a pure relational concept, intensity as the sufficient reason for sensibility, and the nature of problems as catalysts for thought. These images do not correspond to direct empirical experience but instead define the underlying conditions of reality. According to Deleuze, we can best grasp these conditions by liberating ourselves from the constraining mechanisms of common sense and the ego. This liberation is achieved through the “second death,” which opens us up to the unpredictable forces that may arise from virtuality. Philosophy can only fulfill its role when it operates in this state, creating new concepts. This process elevates us to the realm of the Idea – a virtual multiplicity composed of genetic elements and differential relations, which, on a more superficial level, manifest through the interaction of recognized objects and signs. The deepest meaning of self-abandonment lies in drawing from a sphere we identify with creativity and the eternal recurrence of the unknown.

Deleuze’s engagement with the concepts of life and death provides a unique perspective. The “second death” involves the dissolution of the ego into the broader field of virtual potential and resonates with metaphysical traditions that speak of the self’s integration into a larger, dynamic whole. However, Deleuze’s focus on difference and becoming inherently leaves the “first death” – the physical cessation of life – relatively unexplored. His affirmative philosophy refrains from dwelling on this finality, instead directing attention to the transformative and generative potential that transcends it. While Deleuze’s ideas should not be viewed as a conclusive guide to the existential questions surrounding death, they offer a refreshing and valuable lens through which to reconsider the boundaries between life, death, and the ongoing processes of becoming.