This happened a few months ago, and I thought I should note it down.
For a few moments after I woke up, I sat up in bed and thought about dying.
I saw an image of myself lying motionless on a table-like structure.
The image of people around me. I couldn’t see their faces clearly. Probably suggests that they could be anyone… Not only people I know, but including people I have yet to meet on this journey of life.
I remember the whiteness of it all.
Suddenly, the worries of the world seemed a lot smaller, less heavy, and to a certain extent… Meaningless.
Even though I was technically not present in that image, I felt peace. I felt release. I felt free. If there is still an “I” at that moment.
I can’t be sure if this image was conjured up out of a desire to escape the grind of daily living, or a genuine contemplation on the transience of life.
When I tell people that I occasionally think about the beauty of graveyards and the reality of death, I usually get weird stares and freaked out reactions. Rare and few are those who agree with me and who will sink into comfortable silence, embracing contemplation of the process known as Dying (which is biologically happening with each passing second, by the way).
If the leaves on the maple trees refuse to fall and “die”, will we get the beauty of autumn and winter? Would we get the chance to be inspired by the rebirth of spring?
I hope to fear death less, and see it more as a beautiful part of the phenomenon we know as life.