I really want this to be an inspirational post. Let me see...how do I start this? Oh yes.
We are all going to die.
Just in case you missed the news- you will someday kick the bucket. Push up the daisies. Go to the big golf course in the sky. Shave the pig. (Ok, I made that one up.) It is the inevitable truth. Maybe because I have always been the pensive type, mortality is not something I have ever shied away from contemplating.
It's not a comfortable subject, I know. Hearing a cancer patient talk candidly about death- Hotdog! That sounds like a fun Sunday to me! My family cringes to hear me even obliquely refer to it. "Be positive! It is not going to happen." But positive is overrated, I prefer realistic. To me, that means facing the worst case scenarios calmly and then slathering some optimism and attitude on it for balance. You can't stick your head in the sand- the doctor says 'incurable' and 'eventually the chemo will stop working and you will die from cancer.' - well, how am I not supposed to consider how this makes me feel and what it entails? Why is it so taboo to even discuss? Why does even considering the possibility and it's impact a sign of giving up? Of course, I want to beat the statistics and be cured, but it's foolish to not face it.
We cultivate throughout our lives a story - go to college, get married, have kids, watch them go to college, have grandkids, retire...and die in your sleep like grandma (not kicking and screaming like the passengers in her car, per the hilarious bumper sticker). But that is an illusion. Heart attack, car accident, a freak toaster accident...we have no guarantee whatsoever. Hell, I can get cured from cancer and fall down the stairs the next day. That leads me back to - we will all die.
So, let me get to my paradigm shift: Maybe it doesn't matter how long you live. Maybe what really matters is quality of life. You know all those things that we leave for tomorrow? All the crappy things we allow to control our lives out of fear? The unfinished projects and dreams?
I think, if I was on my deathbed, what would I regret? It isn't the dying itself. Lights out, so what? It would be the regret of not having lived a happy, loving, and productive life in the time I had that would hurt the most. This would be true in 8 months or 80 years.
I want to enjoy my family. My friends. My spouse.
I try to call people more, be more patient, and do little things to make myself and others happy. I try to be productive- I do my artwork and I keep up with my blog. I take pride in the work I do at my job. Tell people that mean alot to me just how much they mean to me, in case they suspected it and need confirmation. I am bolder to make new friends, to be honest, to be appreciative. I reassessed my life and realized that all the things I stressed about weren't big things, that my life is pretty beautiful.
Even through cancer, surgery, the stress...I am so lucky and so loved and I hold that closer to my heart than ever. It's not perfect, I'm not riding an elephant in Indonesia right now or producing an indie movie, but if I croaked tomorrow - I would be proud of my life. If I croak at the age of 90, (product of some hot stripper action and an aging heart) I would be proud of my life.
Don't be afraid of mortality. Don't worry about the end, because dying is a very common problem. We can't change it, so may I suggest, focus on what you can.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Sidenote: I saw the video below about 8 years ago and I stuck with me. It is from a book written by Timothy Furstnau and read by the performance artist, Vito Acconci (Seedbed, anyone?) It is a very similar concept, a great artsy-fartsy bit.
We are all going to die.
Just in case you missed the news- you will someday kick the bucket. Push up the daisies. Go to the big golf course in the sky. Shave the pig. (Ok, I made that one up.) It is the inevitable truth. Maybe because I have always been the pensive type, mortality is not something I have ever shied away from contemplating.
It's not a comfortable subject, I know. Hearing a cancer patient talk candidly about death- Hotdog! That sounds like a fun Sunday to me! My family cringes to hear me even obliquely refer to it. "Be positive! It is not going to happen." But positive is overrated, I prefer realistic. To me, that means facing the worst case scenarios calmly and then slathering some optimism and attitude on it for balance. You can't stick your head in the sand- the doctor says 'incurable' and 'eventually the chemo will stop working and you will die from cancer.' - well, how am I not supposed to consider how this makes me feel and what it entails? Why is it so taboo to even discuss? Why does even considering the possibility and it's impact a sign of giving up? Of course, I want to beat the statistics and be cured, but it's foolish to not face it.
We cultivate throughout our lives a story - go to college, get married, have kids, watch them go to college, have grandkids, retire...and die in your sleep like grandma (not kicking and screaming like the passengers in her car, per the hilarious bumper sticker). But that is an illusion. Heart attack, car accident, a freak toaster accident...we have no guarantee whatsoever. Hell, I can get cured from cancer and fall down the stairs the next day. That leads me back to - we will all die.
So, let me get to my paradigm shift: Maybe it doesn't matter how long you live. Maybe what really matters is quality of life. You know all those things that we leave for tomorrow? All the crappy things we allow to control our lives out of fear? The unfinished projects and dreams?
I think, if I was on my deathbed, what would I regret? It isn't the dying itself. Lights out, so what? It would be the regret of not having lived a happy, loving, and productive life in the time I had that would hurt the most. This would be true in 8 months or 80 years.
I want to enjoy my family. My friends. My spouse.
I try to call people more, be more patient, and do little things to make myself and others happy. I try to be productive- I do my artwork and I keep up with my blog. I take pride in the work I do at my job. Tell people that mean alot to me just how much they mean to me, in case they suspected it and need confirmation. I am bolder to make new friends, to be honest, to be appreciative. I reassessed my life and realized that all the things I stressed about weren't big things, that my life is pretty beautiful.
Even through cancer, surgery, the stress...I am so lucky and so loved and I hold that closer to my heart than ever. It's not perfect, I'm not riding an elephant in Indonesia right now or producing an indie movie, but if I croaked tomorrow - I would be proud of my life. If I croak at the age of 90, (product of some hot stripper action and an aging heart) I would be proud of my life.
Don't be afraid of mortality. Don't worry about the end, because dying is a very common problem. We can't change it, so may I suggest, focus on what you can.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Sidenote: I saw the video below about 8 years ago and I stuck with me. It is from a book written by Timothy Furstnau and read by the performance artist, Vito Acconci (Seedbed, anyone?) It is a very similar concept, a great artsy-fartsy bit.
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