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Death.
(Part One.)
Imagine you were out in the middle of nowhere. No way to contact the world and you were not reading this, but knowing this.
And it was telling you that you only had moments left to live. In the time it takes for you to read this you will have died.
What would you do?
Here’s some help.
Look at your hand.
Look at the way it is made. The way the fingers flex and move, all independently, skillfully, as your mind tells them to. Look at the muscles and tendons rippling underneath. Such an amazing design.
A way of manipulating the world around you, touching, interacting with it and feeling it.
Whatever your eyes see, your hand can touch. Your eyes are the focusing tool, which give you your entire perception of the world. Whatever you see is you. As you are interacting with the world and in the world, you see this world and it is seen inside your mind.
And now touch your other hand.
Feel the amazing softness of your skin. That miraculous cover made to keep all of the harmful things in the environment out of your body. Something that lives and breathes and sweats and soaks up fluids and absorbs the world around you, feels and protects.
All in one amazing, living sheet, wrapped round you.
And think of how good it is to touch things with your body. Whether your, hands, feet, tongue, or any other part that is enmeshed safely in your ever feeling skin.
It can give the joy of sex. Just think, two bodies touching one another can make your whole body, both inside and out feel explosions of happiness.
Wouldn’t you just love for another person to hold tight now? To feel the warm sensation of skin on skin. Wouldn’t you love to make love one last time? Wouldn’t you revel in the moment and not let one second escape you in your one last time?
Too late.
Now you have established what an amazing machine you have been gifted with, and how it has allowed you to perceive and feel and interact with your environment, always self repairing itself and continually renewing itself without you even knowing- look at your current surroundings. Use that wonderful lense of perception. Your eyes. And then use that wonderful tool for interaction. Your body.
Look at the grass beneath your feet.
Isn’t it so lovely and green? Such a rich, verdant color. Isn’t the concept of color so beautiful? What is color? It doesn’t really matter now, other than it can give you a sense of surrounding and illicit happy feelings inside you.
Take your shoes off and feel that grass beneath your feet.
Let the little blades softy jab into your skin. Feel them, like playful feather swords, pricking your feet, letting you feel their presence. Feel them worm their way between your toes. Flex your toes and try to feel each blade under your footing.
Dig your toes deeper into the ground and feel the earth, this thing that birthed you and will soon take you back into its bosom.
Feel the grains of sand squirming under your pressuring foot. Imagine all the millions and milions of individual grains. Imagine them as tiny tiny worlds that have life on them too. And then the atoms that those grains are made of. And who knows what else may be inside the atoms that mankind has yet to discover.
So much right under your very feet all this time. And you never even noticed.
And it’s too late now.
Now bend down and run your hands through the grass.
Feel the blades even moreso. That sense of touch is such a marvelous thing to have. Wouldn’t you hate to loose it?
Take some of the earth in your hands.
Feel its grainy texture. Know that you are part if it. Know that it has supported your weight and your experiences for every second of your life. Thank it, for silently carrying you all this time without complaint as you massage it between your fingers.
Then let it slip through the cracks, just as your life is now slipping away.
Listen to the sounds around you.
The birds calling each other in the trees. The buzz of insects as they go about their daily lives. The sound of the breeze, just a soft sigh in your ears, a lovers whisper.
That sound, like the sight, is inside you just as you are in it. Another way to perceive the world. It’s in your mind. It’s such a beautiful sensation. Think of all the melodious pure sounds you’ve heard over your lifetime.
Think of how we invented music as one minds way of communicating with other minds in such a deep, spiritual way. And how that music made you feel.
Think of your favorite song. Think of the feelings it birthed in you. Wouldn’t you love to hear it again?
Too late.
Think of your favorite meal even.
What did it taste like? Can you even recall? How did it make you feel when you ate it? What was its flavor like and how did it roll off the tongue? What was its texture like and what sensations did you feel when you ate it?
Infact, can you even remember what the last meal you ate felt like?
Wouldn’t it be good to have that one last meal knowing you were about to die? Wouldn’t you savor every bite. Wouldn’t you attentively listen to your tongue tell you exactly where it is being stimulated, just like you would a sensitive lover? Wouldn’t you eat it very sparingly, chewing every bite more than once, and knowing what it TRULTY tasted like. And in eating it, you were in fact not just feeding yourself. But had been given the gift of pleasure when you did such a seemingly mundane task.
Too late. Another piece of food will never pass you lips again.
Smell the flowers around you.
Aren’t they so perfect smelling, with their naturalness? Dont they just scream Mother Nature to you? Do they remind you of other scents you have enjjpoyed? A favorite perfume? A favoutre aftershave? The smell of your grandmother’s home baked cookies? The smell of your lover’s hair?
Pick a rose one last time.
Hold it to your nose and gently inhale its aroma. Take a long deep breath, one of the last ones you will ever take, and revel in the sensation of its scent, such a simple thing that has always been there for you to enjoy.
Peel a petal off.
Feel the soft, velvety texture of its tender skin and how it bleeds if you press too hard. Enjoy the way your amazing hands can interact with this simple object of nature. The way the rose’s blood seeps into your skin and seems to do so willingly, as if its only purpose is to look beautiful, and smell beautiful, and feel beautiful, and even die for you.
Peel the remaining petals off, one by one.
Think of the rose as your life. And each petal a period in your life. Do your best to feel the hidden, miniscule beauty that was always there. But never appreciated. Wouldn’t you love to put those petals back? Wouldn’t you love to feel them in a much more appreciative way this time round?
Like the rose, and its short time on this planet, it is too late. You will be dead very soon. A thing of beauty in your uniqueness and your naturalness, and your potential to make others feel joy also.
But over far too quickly.
As the rose drops to the ground and your fleeting time nears, look up to the sky.
See the amazing blue of the sky. Such a rich color. Such a vibrant color. Such a pleasing scene to the eye. Has it ever looked this good to you? What would you give to be allowed to live just a little more so you could see the sun, bright and radiant in the sky, sink slowly below the horizon, and change the hues of blue to so many other rich and wonderful colors? And to really see them and appreciate the fact you are able to experience a moment in time for what it really is?
One more sunset.
If only.
But you can still feel the warmth of the sun on your skin; that wonderful instrument for feeling you only now discovered a few moments ago.
Feel the sun on your face. On your arms. Feel its warm caress like your mothers hands warming you with such pleasant sensation.
That sensation, along with all others, will be gone soon. Never to feel the sun on your skin. Never to know the sensation of warmth. Never to know what rain feels like on your body again; a trillion tiny tongues licking at you and tickling your ears and nose and mouth and face and hands.
The closest you can get to that is feeling the soft wind as it blows over you.
Such a gentle soft blowing is so nice as it makes the hairs stand up on your arms. It’s so soothing and so loving. You probably never even relised it could be that good. Until now.
And yet all it can do now is remind you of an invisible shroud slithering across your body. Reminding you that you will soon be gone and the pleasure of the sun and the wind and the rain will no longer be available to you.
Ever again.
Look once more at the sky.
This time, look further. Look out beyond your eyes vision and use your mental vision to see it. And imagine an entire universe, growing, shrinking, expanding, contracting, living, being. All without you ever having noticed it. All going on above you without you having the slightest clue it was even out there.
And now you ponder, too late, is there life on other planets? Is there someone, even now wondering about you? What do they think? Do they appreciate the fact they are living? I bet if you could talk to them right now, you’d tell them that they are, and that they should savor every moment of it.
But who knows. And who cares. For you will be dead soon.
Your last breaths can almost be counted now. Doesn’t Angelina Jolie losing 12 kilos seem so trivial now?
You have had your time. You were lucky enough to even have had these few moments to appreciate what you had. Some humans live and die and never even know it.
Be thankful for this small moment, as it is all there is.
After that, there will be no more of any of the things you have just experienced.
And no more of the things you would so like to do, now you know you are about to die.
You will feel nothing, you will think nothing. You will do nothing. You will vanish and cease to exist. You will no longer be.
Dont you wish you had more time? Time to do more, and time to do it all better? Dont you wish that with all your heart? A heart that, as you think this, is beating slower and slower. A heart that felt so much good and bad that will soon feel no more at all.
Your breaths are becoming shorter. Now you notice them, you actually notice just how wonderful it was to actually breathe. The feeling of oxygen being absorbed into you. The sensational ness of that interaction between you and the outside world. Something that others breathed inside themselves going into you. Something that has been all around the world and touched it with its unique ghostly touch becoming part of you.
But those breaths come so short now. It’s becoming harder to breathe.
How many more do you think you have? Youve had so many thousands in your lifetime.
And now the last few are so very important.
You wonder which will be the last. You try to suck in more air and make them longer. But as much as you try, you cannot get as much as you once did into your lungs.
Funny how in the movies you watched, the games you played, the books you read and the things you were told, someone breathed their last breath, and you felt the cathartic feeling of a life ending; but until now, you didn’t understand what it meant. They stopped. But you breathed on. You had many many more breaths and never even realized how precious each one was.
Do you want this to be your last breath as you read this?
Or this one?
Or perhaps this one?
Things are growing dark now. Your vision dims. No more green grass, azure, sunsets or blue skies.
You wish it was sleep but you know you will never wake up. You heartbeat is as conspicuous as a ghost.
This is your final breath.
No more sky, wind, warmth, coldness, favoute meals, happiness, sorrow, pain, laughter, sex, love, sounds, sights, colors, thoughts rainbows, feelings, living.
Or anything else…
Breathe in as deep as you can.
Try to prolong the inevitable. Your eyes are closed. You feel your skin one last time, grasping for contact, the sheer pleasure of being able to feel. All going, fading, in this last breath.
The next breath never comes.
Everything stops.
YOU ARE DEAD.
All those things you experienced will NEVER EVER be known to you again.
I hope it was a good life.
"When I was a child I flew! Then as an adult- I watched others soar."
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