This is the truth about life: it will end
It will end. That's the truest thing I can say about life. It will end.
Everybody has a unique perspective. Each person finds a special meaning. This is mine. I feel it deeply in my gut, in my mind, in every cell of my body, in each neuron of my brain.
Sometimes -- like now, I guess -- I want to scream out this truth that seems so freaking obvious, yet is ignored by most of us who aren't on death's doorstep.
Whether or not we're religious, we have a sense of personal immortality. Life seems like it will go on forever. Our tomorrows appear endless. What isn't experienced today is envisioned as being on a manana to-do list.
Let's wake up. I'm speaking mostly to myself, of course. Brian, wake up! But I hope that my words will also resonate with you.
Because there's nothing more important than remaining aware of this truth: life will end. Without this realization we'll sleepwalk through our days and nights, failing to gaze at existence with a wide-eyed ever-so-grateful consciousness that every single moment is a fucking miracle.
Not in a supernatural sense. In a reality sense.
Some fourteen billion years ago the universe came into existence. Now, here we are, aware of it. This seems utterly amazing to me, though it's also completely matter-of-fact. I am; the cosmos is. What's the big deal about that?
Well, the big deal is that while life and consciousness almost certainly will continue on for many, many years -- millions or billions, likely -- my life and consciousness, and yours too, won't.
Look around outside of you. Sense what is being experienced inside of you. Realize that in the eternity of the cosmos, these momentary awarenesses are your precious pitifully brief passing pieces of infinity.
Treasure them. Honor them. Don't let those ! moments pass by carelessly, barely noticed, unappreciated. None of us knows how many of them are left to us. And when they're gone... they're really gone.
Last year I shared some lines from a Mary Oliver poem.
Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?
Yes, what?
When we're young, there doesn't seem to be much urgency to our plans. Plenty of time. Lots of years left. No rush.
The older I get, life cries out to me "more intensity!" Not in a frantic sense; a pay attention sense. Seeing things, whether they appear mundane or magical, as ephemeral gifts bestowed upon us by existence.
We don't need to consciously say thank you as we go about our daily lives. However, a wordless sensation of thankfulness is with me more and more. It springs from it will end.
So even though I'd like to live forever, I'm thankful for death. Those who don't know, really know, that one day they're going to die and be gone forever aren't able to really live.
