Reflections on Death.
A tad cliché but aren't we all?
A threshold we all must encounter.
The transition away from a vibrant life towards the perceived infinite silence of death. An edge we gradually approach. Ever present, rarely acknowledged and very much inevitable, with some people already much closer than others.
It’s the villain of our deepest fears and our most painful experiences, a common thread that delicately connects the web of painful wounds that many of us carry.
It’s the thief of our loved ones who fade into echoes of a time gone by that we yearn to hold, to sit with and seek advice, just one more time.
I desperately wish to consult my Dad, to get his guidance and support, his mentorship.
Big life choices arrive and I want to be able to pick up the phone, to go and see him, not for answers but for those kind and caring eyes that told me it’s going to be okay.
Death is woven into the very fabric of our existence, intricately laced throughout our days. It lies dormant, faintly humming under the most awe-inspiring moments, the sunrise that touches your very soul, the bird song that carries gently on the wind, the leaves of the trees that dance in the afternoon light.
The veil of our minds protects us, shields us from the aching and jarring truth that we will all return to nothingness. That our seemingly meaningful lives will become just another grain of sand on the shore of existence.
Miraculous. Insignificant. Impermanent.
Despite all of this, we live frivolously, we wish away our minutes and our days, longing for a future time where things will be a particular way, acting as if tomorrow is always guaranteed.
We hold grudges for too long, we carry burdens too far and let the oh-so insignificant things, that are mere blips in the grandest of schemes, mean far too much.
What if it’s our fear, our avoidance and our resistance to death that really holds us back?
Preventing us from seeing death as something more, perhaps our greatest teacher or a sage-like guide. Secretly informing us how to truly see the world before us and feel the gravity of what matters most.
It reminds us to spend that extra moment saying goodbye, to hold our loved ones that little bit tighter and to savour the rich chocolatey aroma of a morning coffee.
Because the real question is what would life truly mean if it never ended?
Would all of those magical moments be as wonderful if they could be repeated forever more?
Like many others, I’d argue not because it is the brevity of life that inspires us to live.
It is the brevity of life that reminds us this moment is sacred and it is the brevity of life that encourages us to wholly and unapologetically love.
Peace out ✌️