I’m thinking more and more about death. Specifically my own. I’m tempted now to write that this is not a good thing. I’m also tempted to write that this is a perfectly natural state of affairs. There is truth in both statements. I do not have a terminal illness (that I know of) and my health is excellent (so far as I know). But I am at an age (sixty-seven) when I’m much closer to the end then the beginning. I have not reconciled myself to death yet. I’m not entirely sure what it’s all about though that is the cessation of being seems most logical — not to mention most depressing.
I’ve not given much thought to reincarnation but have considered the possibility that we are afforded the opportunity to live our life again and that we in fact get several turns at the same life. If this is so then surely this must have been my first crack at it for I made a preponderance of rookie mistakes. It is something of a miracle that my life has turned out as well as it has (loving wife, two children I adore) considering what a colossal fuck up I’ve been at times. Indeed the many wrong turns, miscues, faux pas, errors, blunders, miscalculations and lapses in judgement that have pock marked my life beggar belief. I ruminate over this constantly and this can make me very sad indeed. It is a poor exercise to engage in and serves no purpose. True, it is good to recognize and acknowledge one’s mistakes and in turn learn from them, but the dwelling on is a bad idea. Better to celebrate one’s triumphs and I’ve had a few.
Now that my depression is abated (many thanks again to TMS, previously mentioned on this blog) I am dealing with sadness. (Hopefully not with this intensity for much longer.) And as mentioned I’m also dealing with mortality. Oh the existential angst. I think it a luxury to be able to spend so much time on such concerns. When I was working full time and being parent to young children I rarely gave such matter a thought and then only briefly.
Now I’m busy writing but with infinitely more free time for my mind to wander into dark corners and contemplate the very meaning of life. There is a meaning, isn’t there? It would be a shame if when life ended we didn’t discover what it was all about. Or is it possible to unlock the secret before shuffling off this mortal coil?
Then there is the matter of eternity. Is it truly possible to wrap one's mind around the very concept of forever? In mortal life there is always a beginning, a middle and an end. Maybe not so in other possible existences. Of course the very notion of time plays an enormous role in our understanding of the world and life. We divide everything into units. Be they seconds, months, decades, years, millennia. This skews our thinking, maybe even perverts it. Thinking, thinking, thinking, where the mind can go and what can understand, the realities it can alter, the truths it can uncover or obscure, the concepts it can miss or misunderstand. Does time wrap around itself? Can it be altered? Reversed? Surely not stopped.
I think therefore I am and I and still mostly happy and perhaps more importantly, content. I do wish I knew more and understood more and saw more. Maybe that will come in time. One hopes.
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