death

RIP to several pets

RIP, Tanner.
RIP, Smokey.
RIP, Rusty.

It’s been a rough two weeks in the animal kingdom.

“You died in a hotel in 1984”

I’m laying in bed in my apartment, and there’s a knock at the front door. It’s dark, so as I walk to the front door to see who’s there, I see white light coming in from all sides around the door. “Must be one heck of a light out there,” I think. I open the door, and my wife (who I’m separated from) is standing there, and this white glow is all around her.

I don’t even get a chance to think or say hello, and she says, “You died in a hotel in 1984. Everything since then has been a dream.”

With this, I instantly wake up in my bed. My body is shaking like crazy, but I jump up, look back and think, “I am NOT getting back into that bed tonight.”

As I walk around the apartment debating about whether I should try to sleep on the floor or just go into work at four o’clock in the morning, I remember ... I did spend a lot of time in a hotel in 1984.

Buddha was asked, “What have you gained from meditation?”

Buddha was asked, “What have you gained from meditation?”

He replied, “Nothing!” Then he continued, “However, let me tell you what I have lost: anger, anxiety, depression, insecurity, and fear of old age an death.”

I’m amazed by people are afraid to make a mistake

I’m amazed/saddened by people who are so afraid of making a mistake that they come up with a million different reasons as excuses to justify why something can’t be done. They always say, “I would do XYZ, but ...”

All I can think to say to them is, “Quit thinking and just do it.” Or, as Cher said in Moonstruck, “Snap out of it!”

Really, what’s the worst thing that’s going to happen? You’re going to die? Well, I have news for you, no matter what you do, you’re going to die anyway. (I’ve gone unconscious seven times over the last couple of years, and believe me, at that point there’s nothing you can do about it.)

When you’re truly living in the present moment

A little personal enlightenment (from March 22, 2014):

Since I started passing out a few weeks ago, I’ve had conversations with doctors, nurses, friends, and even a shaman caregiver about life, death, quality of life, goals, and desires. I had a hard time answering some of those questions, and yesterday I realized why that was:

If you’re truly living in the present moment, those questions don’t make any sense! You can’t think about life, death, the past, or the future if you’re absorbed in the present moment.

When eating, just eat. When planning for the future, live fully in that moment of planning for the future. And when writing text like this, just write. That’s all.

Struggling to say things pleasant or unpleasant (or not)

Many people seem to struggle to say things that are either pleasant or unpleasant. I can’t speak for anyone else, but having gone through the process of not knowing if I was going to live through many days last year I find it easier to say pretty much anything now. It’s like you know your time is limited, and beyond that, you truly have nothing to lose. If I had died one of those times instead of just getting sick and passing out I wouldn’t be here now, so it’s like I got some free tickets to have fun at the circus for a little while longer.

(I suppose that sometimes when you’re dealing with the opposite sex you have to be a little careful. Today I told a woman that I liked her hair (it was tinted red-ish), but then when I got “that look” I clarified it by adding that I didn’t say that because I wanted her to come over tonight to bake some cookies, I just liked what she had done with her hair.)

“And I looked, and behold a pale horse”

“And I looked, and behold a pale horse: and his name that sat on him was Death, and Hell followed with him. And power was given unto them over the fourth part of the earth, to kill with sword, and with hunger, and with death, and with the beasts of the earth.”

Happy Halloween from Millenium, and Revelations 6:8.

Here comes the OFF switch

In a way I feel fortunate to have passed out quite a few times now. It’s like it’s my body’s way of saying, “Look at you, taking life for granted again — here comes the OFF switch!”

(Fortunately it has just been a Pause switch so far.)