“How come you haven’t been blogging?”
“I don’t know. Guess I’ve been too busy living.”
I laid in bed last night and thought about the most eerie of things: death. I have moments like that sometimes, when out of the blue, I’ll start thinking about the fact that we all die, eventually. It’s an easy thing to forget about. It’s an even easier thing to not want to think about!
I’m not a religious person. I don’t believe in God. I’m not spiritual either. I believe that when we die, we die. We expire. We don’t live on, except in writing, in art, in the memory of others.
I couldn’t sleep because the thought of “expiring” is terrifying. It’s really no wonder that we’ve invented ideas about what happens to us after death. Heaven, hell, guardian angels, ghosts, reincarnation, spirits, etc. To think that you just no longer exist is so hard to comprehend. And after thinking about something like that, I want to yell out “NO!”. No, no, no, no, no. I don’t want to. I don’t want to cease to exist… because I don’t understand it. Life is too curious, too tragic, too interesting, too beautiful to imagine not being a part of it anymore. I don’t want to leave.
Ironically, a couple of friends have secretly admitted to me that they wish they could die. Not that they were suicidal, but that they were purposely living a risky lifestyle so that, perhaps, an accident may occur. Accidental overdose, accidental car accident, accidentally falling off a ledge. One of them was even imagining the day when bouquets of flowers would be delivered to her workplace, after her ‘accidental’ death. When we were talking about crossing a bridge, another friend said to me: “it makes me nervous sometimes that the only thing keeping me here safely, is me.”
I can think of only a couple of occasions where I might consider ending it.. and even then, I’d probably find the strength to pull through. I can’t imagine life without a bit of passion. And when I hear my friends talk about death, a little part of me weeps tremendously because I only wish I could give them something. Something to pull them through this, something to erase the pain, something to breathe a new life into them. Something to make them believe that they matter. They matter to me. Let me help.
And then you realize that sometimes, people are so conflicted, that there’s really nothing you can do. Except think about your own life.. and death. And you keep on living.. because it’s the most beautiful thing you know how to do.
“I cannot go on. I will go on.” As Beckett said.
I am religious, and, strangely, I can’t understand why atheists fear death. I would much, much rather think that when I die, that’s it–there’s not further judgment or disposition awaiting me. I guess some people assume that beievers always think they’ll be going to Heaven. I am certainly not sure; the idea of an afterlife brings me little comfort.
So I guess it’s always a matter of perspective.
Keep livin’,
K.
My wife left her earthly life voluntarily twenty-five years ago.
Was she an aethist? Not sure.
Did life have any enjoyment left for her? Apparently not.
Did she think that I could properly care for our pre-teens through to adulthood. Yes.
I have felt great depression lately but I would not want to lessen the remainder of my life by one minute.
Keep your eyes on the far future, but watch out for those bumps just ahead.
Alfred.
Thank you for sharing that, Alfred. I have thought about your comment for days. *big hug*
*big hug* warmly accepted.
Life is indeed curious, tragic, interesting, beautiful . . . real. It is the “realness”, it seems to me that is riveting–nothing could matter more than that which is real. I believe in God and have become persuaded over years that what we are called to do in this life, first and foremost perhaps, is to pay attention–to pay attention to that which is real. As it happens, “realness” includes death as part of the cycle of life. It is good to pay attention to death (although not so good to obsess over it of course), because it is real, it is inevitable and it presses us to explore questions we might otherwise push aside forever. Death is part of life and life is worth the trip.
“Death is part of life and life is worth the trip.” – it is.