Last night, my mind decided to bless me with one of darkest thoughts I’ve had to date. It had my whole body shaking for some time; completely panicked and alone, with no option but to listen to these loud and unrelenting thoughts. They refused to be silenced.
The realisation was that my understanding of dying: the transition from alive to dead—not death itself—is nothing like the reality.
As a coping mechanism, I’ve created endless narratives that in this day an age, most people will go out peacefully; that I myself will go out peacefully and ride into the sunset of eternal nirvana, unscathed.
It’s the idea that I will go from a good existence: being alive in this body; to an even better after-life: existing in a realm that is not bound by space, time or limits… an instant transition, no suffering in-between.
This pipe dream was shattered beyond recovery last night.
The fact of the matter is that we don’t get to choose when we are born. We don’t get to choose when we die and certainly don’t get to choose how we die. Nor do we know for sure if there’s an afterlife.
It’s not some fairytale where all our loved ones are gathered around us before our last breath, providing us all the love and support we could imagine.
It’s more likely that completely out of the blue, when you least expect it and life is finally looking up, a blood clot formed from your poor lifestyle habits will find its way to an artery in your heart, block it up and throw you into cardiac arrest.
Your last moments of life, filled with absolute terror that causes even more anxiety and sheer panic. Crawling backwards across the floor, blacking in and out of consciousness in the most pain you have ever felt, spitting out blood everywhere, not able to breathe but trying to scream for help; you know it’s the end.
You’re certain that death is moments away.
Your life flashes before your eyes. You burst into tears because you didn’t get to say goodbye to a single soul you knew. Not your mum. Not your dad. Not your best friend or beloved dog, all of whom you love dearly.
No. You don’t get that luxury.
Instead, your heart stops. You run out of breath and all you can do is lie there and accept it. There’s no coming back from this point. Time is up.
As the life leaves your eyes and as your skin goes pale; as your body starts to completely shut down, you shit yourself and go into a slumber that you will never return from, in all of eternity. Your one blink of existence is over.
Though life itself may be filled with beauty, awe inspiring experiences and euphoric states of mind, the dying part will surely be devastating for most.
Likely for me and likely for everyone reading this post.
This sobering reminder also comes after two friends who I spent my childhood growing up with died recently.
One from suicide and one from a drug overdose.
This was heartbreaking. Neither made it to 25 and both were the least deserving of such a fate. Souls to the earth they were.
I am sure this isn’t the last of it either. More will reach such an early fate. Maybe I’ll be one of them, who knows… you never know what freak accident is around the corner or what irrecoverable disease may plague your body.
Alas, there’s hope amongst futility.
Though this may seem like a nihilistic and sinister collections of words, I believe coming to terms with this reality is one of the most powerful and conducive-to-living realisations I’ve ever had.
Ultimately, I figure, it comes down to a choice: do we want to let the suffering of life cripple our being, crush our spirit and disable our ability to live meaning-fully or do we want to harness this finite nature of existence and laugh in the face of death, get inspired, motivated and take responsibility for living out our personal legends to the fullest degree?
Even if the very end is cold and dark, while we are here, alive with a pulse, we ought to do all we can to make the most of the cards we have been dealt.
There is no other option, really.
I will finish with this: as Benjamin Franklin once said: “Some people die at 25 and aren’t buried until 75.”
Mistake not the act of being alive with living. They are two completely different things.
Try your best not to waste the only waking life you are sure of, because you could go out at any moment and be forgotten in an instant.
Make the most of living, while you can.
Because after all, we should live life to death.
This is what I am trying to remind myself, anyway.
Peace ✌
