Just lately a recurring theme has been plucking the chords in my stream of consciousness: death. Not so much what it means to live but what it means to die. Why are we afraid of it? It is being not. You are nothing at all. I dont’ believe in life after death or heaven or anything like that. Nor do I think our poor minds would remain trapped in a decaying body. You just end and everything you were is no more. I’ve never been afraid of dying but have always wondered how to live. They say, in songs and books, that only when you know how to die can you know how to live. Those not busy being born are busy dying. And one day standing in a soft-lighted bathroom with blue paisley curtain, it hit me. The room seemed brighter. What was that revelation? I can’t remember. I didn’t write it down. So, I am left with the fragment of that beam. And then I watch this film about The Flaming Lips and Wayne Coyne says: “This is how you die; there’s no music, there’s no significance, it’s just random, it could have been anybody.” He talks about being afraid when you are a kid and how silly it seems when you are grown and know of real things that terrify and you cannot run away or turn on the light to make them disappear. It reminds me of my irrational agitation during horror flicks, even ones that are comedic. I refuse to watch them because I don’t like the suspense, the way my heart races and the feeling of not being able to get away. I am still afraid of these childish things because I’ve never really known terror first hand. I’m only starting to come to grips with the fact that bad things happen to people, even people you know. This divorce is truly the only dark cloud that has ever crept into my life of sunbeams and rainbows. Whatever dream-state I’ve managed to maintain since childhood is morphing into a vivid reality not unlike images associated with The Lips. The other night I decided to walk when I went out to meet a friend, impulse lead me out the back door, down the alley, alit with snow and a little rabbit darts out from the bushes in front of me. He ran down the alley and round the corner, heading exactly down the path I was to take, even onto the sidewalk before jumping in the brush again! I laughed as I chased this vision over booted, glittered path and wondered who was moving who into the night. I lead a freakishly charmed life and I do have fear because there is no reason for it, I haven’t earned it and worry that if I enjoy it too much, I’ll allow myself to forget that something terrible is always lurking around the corner and one day be rudely awaken by… death?
Image: Embryonic, The Flaming Lips