You knew I would get to it eventually, didn't you?
The topic that has built (and destroyed) kingdoms, both earthly and spiritual. The one that is sure to clear a room if you bring it up over cocktails, except Catholics who bring the wine right into the social hall along with the bingo cards. But they don't really want to talk about it, either, whether they're drinking or not. And especially not during bingo or a reverse draw, let's get our priorities straight here, OK?
I'm talking about the guy with the scythe who peers out at us from the depths of his hoodie, scaring the bejeezus out of folks. Well, some of us. There are people walking around who refuse....absolutely REFUSE.....to acknowledge his presence at all, so they dance through life ignoring the fact that in order to dance THROUGH life implies you come out the other end somewhere. Don't bother them with reality, it's messy and makes them hyperventilate or call you ugly names like infidel.
But I can handle it. That's one great thing about aging. We don't care what you think about us, a totally freeing experience with boundaries falling left and right. The ones about what is "polite" or "proper" or "I don't want to say that because they may not let me in." Wherever "in" is, I'm not interested any more, so here goes.
I read somewhere that John Lennon felt that death was kind of like getting in a taxi and then getting out the other side at the end of your trip. I think he was saying that the trip doesn't end just because you got out the other door. You'll still be SOMEWHERE, it just may not be where you expected to be or where you can even imagine (pun intended for Lennon fans). And it may be a bit strange at first, kind of like going to Albania. I don't understand Albanian (and like most Americans, I don't understand much of any other language at all, so it wouldn't really matter where the taxi stopped, would it?), the customs will probably look a little weird, and it might take some time getting used to the food. Or the fact that all portions aren't SUPERSIZED.......I'm going to starve here in this crazy place! But, if we open ourselves up to new possibilities, we can learn a new way of seeing and being. I promise.
Energy never dissipates, and the essence of who we are is made of energy. Just try following a two year old at the mall or a bunch of texting teenagers. So, I believe that the energy that is me (and you can call it "soul" if you like) will continue when this body eventually screams "I GIVE! I'M DONE!"
Where that will be is the mystery. And millions of people simply cannot handle the not knowing. Some evade, they hide, they get ugly when you aren't afraid of it yourself or want to take a different taxi than they do.
But I'm OK with the whole thing. I know my ride is getting closer every day and I also know that I will exit that taxi somewhere. And wouldn't it be great if John was there to help me step out on the other side? Imagine that.
The topic that has built (and destroyed) kingdoms, both earthly and spiritual. The one that is sure to clear a room if you bring it up over cocktails, except Catholics who bring the wine right into the social hall along with the bingo cards. But they don't really want to talk about it, either, whether they're drinking or not. And especially not during bingo or a reverse draw, let's get our priorities straight here, OK?
I'm talking about the guy with the scythe who peers out at us from the depths of his hoodie, scaring the bejeezus out of folks. Well, some of us. There are people walking around who refuse....absolutely REFUSE.....to acknowledge his presence at all, so they dance through life ignoring the fact that in order to dance THROUGH life implies you come out the other end somewhere. Don't bother them with reality, it's messy and makes them hyperventilate or call you ugly names like infidel.
But I can handle it. That's one great thing about aging. We don't care what you think about us, a totally freeing experience with boundaries falling left and right. The ones about what is "polite" or "proper" or "I don't want to say that because they may not let me in." Wherever "in" is, I'm not interested any more, so here goes.
I read somewhere that John Lennon felt that death was kind of like getting in a taxi and then getting out the other side at the end of your trip. I think he was saying that the trip doesn't end just because you got out the other door. You'll still be SOMEWHERE, it just may not be where you expected to be or where you can even imagine (pun intended for Lennon fans). And it may be a bit strange at first, kind of like going to Albania. I don't understand Albanian (and like most Americans, I don't understand much of any other language at all, so it wouldn't really matter where the taxi stopped, would it?), the customs will probably look a little weird, and it might take some time getting used to the food. Or the fact that all portions aren't SUPERSIZED.......I'm going to starve here in this crazy place! But, if we open ourselves up to new possibilities, we can learn a new way of seeing and being. I promise.
Energy never dissipates, and the essence of who we are is made of energy. Just try following a two year old at the mall or a bunch of texting teenagers. So, I believe that the energy that is me (and you can call it "soul" if you like) will continue when this body eventually screams "I GIVE! I'M DONE!"
Where that will be is the mystery. And millions of people simply cannot handle the not knowing. Some evade, they hide, they get ugly when you aren't afraid of it yourself or want to take a different taxi than they do.
But I'm OK with the whole thing. I know my ride is getting closer every day and I also know that I will exit that taxi somewhere. And wouldn't it be great if John was there to help me step out on the other side? Imagine that.
“For death begins with life's first breath. And life begins at touch of death.”
John Oxenham
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