One day I am going to die. Sometimes I know this on an intellectual level, and other times, like on this transcontinental flight through the day and night of time zones, it lands with a shockwave through my being.
First, it triggers fear. No no no. I do not know what death is, although I have my beliefs around it. I will cease to be as I know myself in this form. That cannot really happen to me.
Everything then becomes more essential.
The feeling of breath in my body. What an amazing process, this act of life… As I focus on it, I realise I am controlling it — in, out, big long inhale, and the explosive sigh of an overdue out breath. And I was also breathing when I was not conscious of it. This marvel of a body does that, and so much more.
I want to write little notes to myself, whoever or whatever that will be when I leave this human form — little notes that will be inscribed on my soul. This is how it feels to be in a body. To have a pulse and breath.
This is how it feels to be angry, annoyed, scared, concerned, anxious, wounded or apathetic. And this is how it feels to become aware of those emotions, and to have a choice to allow the possibility of something else, too. Compassion in the anger, patience in the annoyance, hope in the fear, trust in the concern, familiarity in the anxiety, courage in the pain, and surrender in the apathy.
In my belief system, the soul is in deep contact with all other souls after we leave the physical body, like a ray of light flying into the sun. There, in that unified consciousness, there is no sense in the anger, annoyance, fear, and so forth. There is love, compassion, trust, oneness. So I want to allow myself to remember that I had the choice for something else too when I was in a human body in this lifetime.
Sometimes I choose for separation: I stick with my judgment that another person is bad, stupid, wrong, or whatever else suits my story of the situation. I indulge the duality of good and bad, like I indulge myself sometimes with food that may not be the most nutritious but it was in front of me at the time.
Sometimes I remember that I am going to die, and then the sheer possibility of having passed judgment is in itself something I want my soul to remember, for when it is once again in unity with All.
In these moments of awakening to my own mortality, I revel in it all, with a sense of urgency. The realisation used to set me into a blind white panic in my early 20s to the point that it would keep me awake at night. Now as I approach 40, I have a few more resources and possibilities to cope with the panic. I notice that this is how it feels to rest my palms on my legs. This is how it feels when a warm and sleepy little hand searches out mine and weaves itself into my fingers. This is what loud noise sounds like. These are vibrations of an aeroplane flying through the skies of this planet Earth.
Remember, remember — let all of these possibilities, this unfathomable wealth of experience and adventure, be imprinted onto my soul. Somehow, if I make all of this count, then mortality may feel less deathly.
[quote]
AFTERLIFE
You’re going to die.
At least in this form.
Terrible news for the ego.
Great news for the heart.
Soften into Death,
surrender to its lover, Impermanence,
and life regains its preciousness.
“More time” is not required.
This moment is more than enough.
A breath of ocean air.
A cup of tea with a friend.
An ordinary moment, illuminated.
You were dead before;
now you are alive.
[/quote]
– Jeff Foster
