Hey people. So... lot's of mortality going down right now. It's weird, because, much as we like to live in suspended disbelief, this is always going on. Yes, right now, every moment.
It makes one pause. Which I suppose is the point, assuming there is one. I hesitate to express all my thoughts about this for fear of making anyone feel bad. I myself am not grieving right now. But nothing I have to say has a hurtful intention behind it, so...
Somehow during this conversation we got on this tangent where since I am older and have no children, it's likely to be her who's there with me at *the end*. She agreed to help me think of funny things to write on my body with a sharpie like, "Stop looking at my butt" etc, and even to write them if I couldn't. Of course this is vastly more funny if you imagine some unknown med student encountering this graffiti. "These boobs were really something once. What?-- They WERE."
I guess the main thing I think of, when I think about death, is that it's not the end. I'm not religious, but this is something I really believe in my core-- that we're all permanent, it's just our bodies, and this place, that aren't. Sometimes that makes it hard for me to take things super seriously. It's not like anyone's getting out alive, and really, nothing we do here is all that super important.
So what's the point? I guess, as far as I can figure out for myself, it's to make your connections meaningful ones. Meaningful to you, and to those you care about. We matter to the people who love us. It's important to let the people you care about know how you feel about them, that you see them, that knowing them makes a difference to you.
Won't everyone figure all this out after we're all wherever we go when we're done here? And presumably (maybe) we all become some kind of all-knowing spiritual beings, riding unicorns and eating unlimited quantities of chocolate? Yeah, probably, but really, if there's going to be a point to your life here, you could do worse right? Because when it's all said and done, no one is going to care or remember how clean your house was, or what you did for a job etc etc.
All this sounds very rational and detached doesn't it? That's how I usually feel about it-- but there are nerve endings that get jolted every once in a while, because I think that's part of being here too-- feeling that heartbreaking, tearing feeling, to keep us plugged in to this life-- make us feel a sense of immediacy and urgency, and loss. To make us stop and assess what we still have, or appreciate what we had.
I get this way a lot with animals, oddly. When I see a bunch of dumb geese wandering onto the highway my throat closes-up and I'll spend the next hour being horrified and on the verge of tears, even though rational me has no attachment to the geese, and knows they're made of indestructible energy just like the rest of us (and feathers etc) (haha).
I feel so sorry for my friends who are in grief right now. I think feelings like this are supposed to make us all appreciate each other more somehow. But as my sister wisely observed, "It's not like anyone knows for sure."
All I do know, is I'm going to try to let everyone I care about, feel that from me-- that I do care about them, and hope for the best, and keep trying to think of funny things to write on myself when the time comes.