Dear Death

Death is on my mind lately.

No particular reason. I occasionally flirt with thoughts of death and dying.

It’s a form of interim stock-taking. Thinking about what’s gone before. What may be ahead. Like routine maintenance. What do I have to tweak or do better to make my inevitable end more calm and peaceful?

One good thing about having a total mid-life meltdown is that it can initiate a major reframing of your life goal and priorities. I used to think it was important for me to be someone important.

I came to learn that making others feel important is more important than being important yourself. Depending on your hopes and dreams.

It comes down to whether you choose to lead your life with your head or your heart. A combination is optimum.

We spend an inordinate amount of time running from the reality of death as our last pit stop. If I manage to avoid a violent and messy end, I expect death will be just one long night’s sleep at the end of the day. If I’m lucky.

I fear the disintegration of physical strength and skill more than I fear death itself. I have often considered what I would do with a terminal cancer diagnosis. Pack up and go home, I think. At that actual moment, my feelings may change.

I like running my own ship. I don’t like to rely on others. Though I do.

So the following quotes helped me reframe my recent thoughts about death and woke me up a little.

I expect dying folks are about the wisest folks there is on the planet.

Whether they are happy about dying or not is a whole other discussion.

Perhaps the whole root of our trouble, the human trouble, is that we will sacrifice all the beauty of our lives, will imprison ourselves in totems, taboos, crosses, blood sacrifices, steeples, mosques, races, armies, flags, nations, in order to deny the fact of death, which is the only fact we have.

It seems to me that one ought to rejoice in the fact of death—ought to decide, indeed, to earn one’s death by confronting with passion the conundrum of life.

One is responsible to life: It is the small beacon in that terrifying darkness from which we come and to which we shall return.

One must negotiate this passage as nobly as possible, for the sake of those who are coming after us.

(Book: The Fire Next Time [ad] https://amzn.to/3TcCyl5)

James Baldwin

Mark Twain may have put death in the best perspective of all.

“I do not fear death. I had been dead for billions and billions of years before I was born, and had not suffered the slightest inconvenience from it.” 

Mark Twain

I expect he’s right.

Just This Today

Because this one fact is just that important to contemplate and remind ourselves … again and again and again ad infinitum. Because truth is true and worthy of reminding ourselves. Frequently.

“Life is tragic simply because the earth turns and the sun inexorably rises and sets, and one day, for each of us, the sun will go down for the last, last time.

Perhaps the whole root of our trouble, the human trouble, is that we will sacrifice all the beauty of our lives, will imprison ourselves in totems, taboos, crosses, blood sacrifices, steeples, mosques, races, armies, flags, nations, in order to deny the fact of death, the only fact we have.

It seems to me that one ought to rejoice in the fact of death–ought to decide, indeed, to earn one’s death by confronting with passion the conundrum of life.

One is responsible for life: It is the small beacon in that terrifying darkness from which we come and to which we shall return.” —James Baldwin (THE FIRE NEXT TIME; Vintage Books & Anchor Books)