Wednesday, September 19, 2007

What does it mean to live a life?

Lately my thoughts have dwelt increasingly amongst the dead. Perhaps I am getting old and facing thoughts of my own mortality for the first time. Perhaps I am reading Revelations and the thoughts of the end game have given rise to thoughts of my part in it. Perhaps its just the fact that death is a part of life and though we like to forget it, there are people dying all around us every single day of the year. I'm not sure which it is, but my thoughts have been jarred loose and have floated that direction.

I'm not sure what I want to say about it. The idea, the thought of being dead, immediately leads one to the next idea - what's next? But that's a non-starter. Despite my faith, I can't answer that question. I believe that AFTER I die, I will see a bright golden tunnel of warmth and light and emerge in a new place with my Grandfather and Grandmother and all those others who have gone before me. But its what will happen before that that has gripped my imagination.

I read a story yesterday about a bunch of scientists who are traveling through the Singapore area looking for geological evidence of an upcoming mammoth quake to rival the one that killed tens of thousands of people a couple of years ago. The interview was taking place on a beach in Phuket - one of the places hard hit by the previous Tsunami. As the geologist is giving the interview, they are watching the sand on the beach shake from an aftershock (foreshock) and the guy is basically acknowledging that at any moment, a giant tsunami wave could be coming on the horizon to blot out his existence. Then he goes on to say how he and his team will be traveling to other islands for the next several weeks and months looking for more information - with full knowledge of the likelihood of his own death.

When I was young and dumb, I joined the Navy and didn't really think through the ramifications of that decision. We like to all think that we'll have some say about our lives and that nobody would needlessly throw our lives away on some dubious cause. I knew people that were killed. I knew people who killed others. I could never imagine that thought that I might be shot or blown up or maimed on any given day merely because of the uniform I wore. Worst was the knowledge that to prevent intelligence from falling into our enemies hands - the marines would be given orders to kill me rather than let me be captured. I decided to simply ignore such thoughts. Facing mortality at such a young age is almost an impossible thing. I was still trying to figure out how to live. I certainly didn't want to figure out how to die.

But now, I am looking forward down the road to my 70's, 80's, 90's... and I am asking myself, what do I want to accomplish before that day that I die? What do I want to look back upon and say, "That was the proudest day of my life"? What sort of legacy do I want to leave?

And, at the same time, I am wondering - will it hurt? How much pain can I bear? What are the limits of my endurance? What would I do if faced with a decision between life in a diminished capacity or a gruesome death?

I've never had to ask these questions before. Death has always been a part of life, but not an experience that I've sought out nor ever tried to understand. We all joke about the sort of death we want, but we're usually thinking along the lines of what would give us and our loved ones the least amount of pain. Nobody ever answers that question with, "I'd like to have a massive heart attack in my home and not be found for three days." But that might be a reality for some of us. And its something to consider - even if its only in the fleeting dark spots of our mind. As Spock once told Saavik, "How we face death is at least as important as how we face life." I think that statement not only shows wisdom, but its also something that we don't truly consider until we've grown a little in our shoes and suddenly realize that the summit of our lives is approaching, and the long downhill is to follow soon after.

Of course, my Dad did tell me when he reached 65 that he was finally content to reach middle age... so maybe I've got a long time to think about this. But, just in case, its always nice to be prepared.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

I've always thought that the sooner one comes to grip with one's mortality, the better off one is. For me it was age 15. One has a different perspective after that.

Cheers.

Anonymous said...

I just came across this which seemed apropos.

Cheers.