So, we know that life ends. We know that it begins. We don’t know where we were before we came here and we don’t know what’s waiting for us when we leave. We aren’t supposed to remember. I think that some mentally ill people DO remember and that’s why they lose touch with the game we are currently playing. I could be wrong, of course, but it is a possibility. It would be multitasking at such an incredible rate that it would fry our synapses and leave us hanging, unable to recognize what’s real and what isn’t, relatively speaking, I mean. Today, with all the games and constant electronic input/noise, we are probably being rewired but that still isn’t the same as possibly seeing bits of past lives and weird things we can’t figure out.
Anyway, who knows? Right? Just something to think about. The point is, our lives, like any story, have a beginning, a middle and an end. There are snort stories and LONG ones. When our story opens, we don’t know which one we are in. I think if you have a lot of short lives you get an anthology, of sorts. Each story written by you but when you were a different person. Hey, it could happen. You don’t know that that isn’t true. Look at all the ridiculous thing people believe. How is that any different?
Absolutely no one knows where we were before we were born, or where we are going when we die. The pope doesn’t know a single thing. Zip, Nada, NOTHING AT ALL. People can pay him, bow down in front of him, light candles, kiss his hand or ring, get a pat on the head, drink blood and eat flesh, do whatever and he’s still just a guy who doesn’t know any more than anyone else.
We all face walking to the end alone. People can be laying on top of us, begging us to stay, telling us they love us but we are all by ourselves. No one can go with us, or make sure we get first class accommodations with a nice pool and a bit of chocolate on our pillow. It’s just each of us and __________whatever. Personally, I’ve decided to believe that crows are going to be waiting for me and I can fly with them. Very cool. If there’s nothing there, well, we’ve all been there and done that. Go to bed at night and sleep. Same deal. Sleeping is kind of like being dead, when you think about it. You don’t know what’s happening in the world while you’re asleep. Fuzzy hamsters could be invading Iceland. America could fire all the corrupt politicians and stop lying to everyone. The pope could admit that religion is a sham and beg for forgiveness, incarcerating all the rapist priests he protected. But yeah, if we’re sleeping, we would miss all of that and you know what…it wouldn’t matter, because when we’re asleep, nothing much does matter. We are in a different place when we are asleep We will be in a different place when we’re dead. Sleeping is practice for being dead. We don’t think about waking up, when we’re asleep. We just dream, get in our REM sleep, and not worry about life at all. Being dead is like that I bet. Unless it’s not.
Like the person in the picture, we walk to the edge and JUMP into something entirely….familiar? But then you’d have to believe in reincarnation. There’s PROOF that reincarnation exists but people refuse to take it seriously, so, like everything else, we are not allowed to see, it’s removed from our list of things to consider, at least for the Western mind.
When we die, we may break into atoms and gasses, chemicals and sparkles, or ions and quarks and neutrinos, or any number of things. Our consciousness may float around, or not. Maybe we will see people and animals we love, or maybe not. Maybe we can watch a supernova, or go down a black hole, or maybe not. The thing is…no one knows. It’s silly to worry about dying when we have no idea if a party is waiting for us, once we leave, or if there’s nothing at all. Either way, we all have to face it. People can worry about the inevitable, or just have a blast while they’re here and wait until the door appears.
How cool would it be to cross the river Styx on our way to a vegetarian luau? I bet the boatman would know where the best parties were. I don’t believe in hell, other than earth, so I have nothing to say about that. It’s such a silly idea, that it just slides off of my consciousness, like water off a duck’s back.
I would love to see a place filled with happy animals who were safe from humans, or anyone else who would harm them. That would be one of my top three wishes. Still, becoming nothing isn’t all bad. I mean, think about it. Life is simply one repetitive motion after another. Being nothing is just a rearrangement of atoms.
We could simply walk through a door into another place and start over. Really, try not to get hysterical but it is possible that we simply go from one life to another, in a never ending circle. Makes me tired but hey, think of the experiences you won’t remember from any of them, unless there’s a debriefing and clay.
Think of the universe, well everything, actually as a huge ball of clay. We break off into pieces (each of us/our consciousness), and are born into something. When we are finished, we go back to the ball of clay and report. Our experiences are filed and added to the KNOWLEDGE of everything. It’s like an airport, but not. We do that forever. The clay wants to know everything, so there is no end game. We are the bits of clay, on journeys to gather data for the big ball of clay which is a storehouse for all knowledge. We ARE the big ball of clay. No supreme beings…just crazy little us, looking for a cheap thrill and data. Why not?
I don’t think people make enough fun of being dead. Everyone is so serious about it, like something that should be hidden, or never discussed. Sure, having someone we love die, can rip the heart out of us, but that’s because we’re the ones LEFT BEHIND. In other words, we are the ones who are still ALIVE. When the people we love die, we often want to GO WITH THEM (actually, part of us does go with them). Death suddenly isn’t the scary part…LIFE is, because life doesn’t seem worth living without the people who are gone. But death is not about us, it’s about the people who leave. That doesn’t make sense, I know, since we are the ones who are never the same, but I think that’s just part of this place. Maybe those who have left wish they could pull us through the door and get us out of here because it’s so much better where they are. We just don’t know.
The thing is, people are worried about what they IMAGINE, not what they know. Since NO ONE knows what happens when we leave, there’s really nothing to worry ABOUT. Humans have the spectacular ability to WORRY about THE WRONG THINGS. Most of the stuff that drives people crazy NEVER HAPPENS. It’s a waste of life and energy to worry about being dead. Not being able to die, now that’s something to think about. People are begging to die and doctors won’t help them. THAT is terrifying.
I’ve stopped treatment on those I’ve loved and I did it gladly, to end their suffering. I’ve begged Death to take them…to help them. I loved them and that’s why I could do it. If you love someone you can’t be selfish. You can’t worry about how you will feel, or what your life will be like when they’re gone. You can only think about what you can do for THEM. How you can help them. How you can make it stop.
When my husband was dying and his doctor kept telling me he couldn’t help him die because we weren’t in Oregon, I was frantic. I said, “If you don’t do something, I’ll kill him myself.” Yes, I loved him that much. A nurse, who I wanted to smash into the wall ( I actually did that to a male nurse, when my son was dying…I did slam him into the wall), said, “Now I have to get someone to watch you 24 hours a day until he dies. Just thinking about this…well…never mind. I told her what she could do to herself, since the person she loved wasn’t DYING. She never got anyone. But the love of my life had to suffer for a day and a half until he finally died.
I’ve also jumped across a table to strangle a Nurse/Practitioner, when our son was dying. Sometimes you just have to do things like that because there’s really nothing else you can do. You get so full of horror, stress, rage, incompetence, cruelty, thoughtlessness, and a million other things, that you just, well, jump over a table. My husband caught me while I was in the middle of the table, so I didn’t get to her. He was very strong and he wouldn’t let me go. I just couldn’t stand her smug face another second. So, yes. It’s not all fun and games but one has to do what the situation calls for.
When I slammed the guy into the wall, I said, “If you hurt my son one more time, I will rip your heart out and shove it down your throat.” That was called for. Again…it was my son, I was his mom, it was my job to protect him…until I couldn’t. Until the only protection I could give him was calling Death and asking him to please take him.
When you think about it, Death, like life, and a million other things, is just one more stupid earth moment. And some people believe there’s a hell somewhere else. LOLOLOL Cracks me up, really, it does.