The Domestic Despot enlightened me yesterday to a website that actually reminds people five times a day that they are going to die.
You don’t need a website.
Go look in the mirror. Beneath all the mascara, make-up, and foundation, etc. you are dying.
Underneath the bleached and dyed hair, the colored nails, the Botox injections, even under the Brazil Butt Lift you saved up for, you are dying.
And it took until just now that people want to be reminded to get off their asses and enjoy everything this planet has to offer before they depart?
Have you ever been to a funeral? If that doesn’t remind you of our frail temporary existence, then what?
Depending on what your religious beliefs, the website must seem very comical to someone who truly believes the best is yet to come. My Dad once told me on his deathbed that you are measured“ not how you start out, but how you end up.” This is very much in line with Muslim teachings and some other Oriental faiths.
I am having trouble with the philosophy behind the website.
People seem to follow their own time frame for when they come to that ultimate “aha” moment of clarity.
I never thought about my own Last Sand in the Hourglass until recently. Massive heart attacks, numerous surgeries and Dancing with Death all happened (without my consent I might add), and all I could think about in those times was that I pretty much spent my time on this planet on my own terms doing what I wanted.
I never thought of “keeping score” of all the things I’ve ever done or lived through. I just look at it like this:
We are all, each and everyone of us, a blank canvas at birth. I merely chose to use different colors to complete my masterpiece. And believe it brothers and sisters, we are ALL masterpieces.
I am not one who endorses giving out medals or trophies for merely meeting minimum participation requirements, but if you get to eighty years old, you deserve something for just getting through all the deleterious things in this world.
If that were a crime, I would be behind bars for sure.
But it is not, and I can console myself by knowing I did things in the course of my life that some people can only read about.
Fun, terrifying things.
I am far from done in this sphere of existence. I’m not taking guitar lessons to lay down and die somewhere.
I want to start playing out in bars again and I am awaiting a list of dates from which to choose to play after the winter bookings. If sixty-seven is too old, I’ll take mine rare, thank you.
I won’t be wasting any time checking in on any death websites.
If you call watching the bright blue sky filter through the changing colors of fall as it welcomes winter, then lock me up.
Don’t look at the falling leaves as the end of life for that leaf.
It will return to the earth to nurture and grow more beautiful trees.
Funny how a little stewardship can serve to brighten your outlooki?