Death

These are not my words, but words that spoke to me some years ago. I thought I would share them with you today.

Death. 

The thought of dying consumed me when I was younger. Not in some misguided goth vampire oh-isn't-death-cool kind of way. No, death scared the stuffing out of me. 

In many ways death paralyzed me. I couldn't think straight knowing I would die. This was starting when I was about 10 years old. Imagine that. I was going to worry for the next 65 years about dying. What kind of life would that be? It's like I was on the dance floor with everyone else, but rather than moving to the beat and enjoying the moment, I stood there perfectly still, consumed with the idea that the music would evetually stop. It was like I was already dead. 

There is a rational side of me that saw the irony. I was wasting away while living, because I feared wasting away and dying. As if worrying about the inevitable could somehow change the outcome. 

It reminds me of airplanes. I hate flying. So you know what I do? I try to sit lightly in my seat. I try to not press down too hard for fear the extra weight will be too much and the plane will plummet to the ground. How ridiculous. You should see me walk down the aisle of the plane to the bathroom. I am extra careful not to press my feet too hard into the carpet. So I do this sort of tiptoe thing. LOL! You want a laugh? If you watch closely on a plane, other people do it too. 

I think we are all the same. Maybe we are not willing to admit it, but we are. We are all the same. Our desire for sex. Our insecurity about how others view us. Concerns over our looks. Guilt over being selfish. On and on. All people. All cultures. We are all the same. With one strong common denominator being this overpowering fear of death. 

But young people, listen up, let me lighten your load a little. 

You know what happens? Death seems all consuming when you are a teen and you can't fathom how you will cope with the anxiety of impending doom when you turn 50 or 60 or 70. OMG right? How can an old person possibly ever smile knowing the grim reaper is around the corner?? But you know what? Here is the one thing I have learned in life: The fear of death goes away. 

As you get older, as you wander through your own trials of life, as you embarrass yourself at party, or screw up something at work, or feel guilty about yelling at your children - interestingly the fear of death subsides. It's as if your brain reconciles. Your brain says hey, you know what, you aren't perfect. You've messed up plenty. It is not a total loss if death puts you out of your misery. It would ease your guilt and suffering. 

It is like the difference between getting a dent in a new car versus an old car. With the new car, you get a dent and you flip out. But a shopping cart bumps into your old car and you don't even think twice. In fact, it makes me chuckle when I get a dent in the old car. I feel I won somehow. I feel it was a wasted effort on karma's part. Because I don't care anymore. Go ahead, dent my old car all you want. It doesn't bother me. It's old. Ha ha. 

And that's what happens with death. Take my life away when I am young and I am devastated. Take my life away when I am old and in a wheelchair and on medication, with a lifetime of troubling thoughts regurgitating in head about how I once puked in a bar and how I let down a friend by not showing up at his birthday party and how I ran over my neighbor's dog because I was too lazy to check before backing up. Fill your head with these dents over 50 years, and the thought that you only have 20 years left doesn't seem so bad anymore. 

The fear of death is self correcting. 

That's how old people cope. That's why sometimes we even smile. 

So live your life young people. Dance to the music. Don't fret about what's to come. It will be okay. Really, it will be okay. 

----71, male