What would you do if you were told that you were going to die tomorrow at 5pm? Hypothetically speaking, of course…
What would I do? Run? Seek solace? Seek forgiveness? Seek redemption of some sort? Ask to be held? Hold the ones I love most? Eat? Make love? Cry? Feel relief?
I think I know for sure that I would not go running to ask for forgiveness from people that I DID NOT intentionally hurt. I feel that it would be a little too late to say I am sorry. You might think that is wrong of me, but I am being honest, not trying to be bitchy! I think I am aware of the power of asking to be forgiven. I have experienced forgiveness first hand and it has given me peace of mind and soul. But I do not think I even have it clear who I would ask for forgiveness, but I know I have feelings of being wronged by someone. I am sure I have caused the same at some point. But they will have to deal with me not coming to terms. I do not think that is how I will spend my last moments.
I would not rush to tell my loved ones that I love them either. I feel they each already know how much I love them and that I have always given them my one hundred percent. I have been very loving to my children, my grandchildren and my parents and when it comes to my romantic love partners . . . WOOAAAAHH!!!! I go all the way showing them my love. I do not fear showing my love.
It will be too late to ruminate on regrets and much too late to take a trip from my bucket list! I have traveled quite a bit, but it is never enough. There is always one more city, one more ocean, one more museum that I could see. But it will be too late. I will simply enjoy my home, Santa Fe, the sky, the dirt, the light. I would call my children, my grandchildren, my brother and my friends. Or would I? What would I say though? I love you. Do not forget me? Of course, I would be with my special person because connection is what makes us feel alive . . . and I would want to feel alive for the last few hours of my life.
But I do not write this in a melancholic way. We all know that every single one of us is going to have to end this trip of life at some point. Who knows how much time in advance we will get to reflect on it. I heard someone recently talking about being 82, in good health, having success in his passion of writing, and yet still, he was preparing mentally and in his soul for the imminence of death.
Now as I write, I think I might be less concerned with the life I am leaving than the life I am GOING TO. If there is one but I do not need to feel like I am dying to reflect on this. I read that if you get medically close to death, there is the experience of light beyond that you are going toward and a sense of peace, seeing people from your past, your life flashing in front of you. But I have also read that when having a near death experience in an accident, you become hyper aware of your surroundings. Your senses are amplified - like a vampire - but you also do not feel stress, just awareness. Both experiences are peaceful. At least that is what those who have been close say. How is it when you know that death is in a few hours?
I really do try living in the present. It does take practice and discipline. However, I cannot help that memories are part of my life. I find myself often reminiscing to myself. I think of the good and the bad that has happened to me - all the time. I wonder if I would be wandering down memory lane my last hours or will I maintain the ability to live in the moment?
Quantum physics says there is a double of myself out there. Will I have a reunion with my other self and flow around the galaxies? I hope I can wear my red lipstick and high heels! Or will we reincarnate? I do not believe in this. I want to be responsible for what I do in this life. I do not want my next person to have to karmically pay for my #%@*!
I sometimes express to people that I was raised Catholic and that I find comfort in my faith when I think of death. But in reflecting on this I realize, I am not thinking of Jesus Christ and being comforted by God. I am remembering my parents and being a child. Catholic to me is my family, my childhood. I remember the smell of the trees when rain would fall in the city where I was raised with roses and fountains everywhere. I also think of bringing my kids to this world and holding my grandkids for the first time. I think of the Santa Fe sunsets. I think of how much I have loved and been loved. This is all peaceful. This is where my faith in the “after” lies.
What would you do - think of - act on- if tomorrow, 5pm, you started your next journey?
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