| We have a funny relationship with death these days. It feels like no one is allowed to die gracefully anymore. Death has been taboo for our culture, or at least my culture. Yours may vary, and hopefully it does. Regardless, step over here for a second, and let's unwind this wicket.
Now, before we get deeper into this I am going to lay some ground rules out. That's just the way I roll, dawg.
The entire “Culture of Life” and “Culture of Death” bullshit is left on the curb. This isn't about a single woman and her state of sordid affairs that we were all slapped in the face with until our ears bled. Fuck a whole lot of that. I'm not talking sound bites here; I'm trying to see what's wrong with us.
Used to be, the dead were going to a better place. Some called it Heaven, some Nirvana, and some called it Albany. Whatever it was called, the idea was the same. This mortal coil—(The idea of a mortal coil is interesting isn't it? That life itself coils around us, trapping and squeezing us until we escape.)—this life is a stepping-stone to a reward, a higher state of being and a brighter shinier path.
Now some people say a lot of that was made up to keep peasants down and blahblahblah, but people nowhere near that situation had the idea of a greater afterlife. So again, fuck a whole lot of that.
We've ditched the idea though, haven't we? To a large extent, at the very least, we have.
But can you truly say you're surprised? Look at American culture; look where you sit and what you do. We consume, we expand, we have to gain more and do it faster by the minute or we are somehow losing out. And isn't the biggest loss of all when we can't even play anymore? It isn't about doing the best you can and seeking a better place afterwards. Now it is all about doing everything you can to stay here and make it great because it's the only chance you got, boy.
It, really, makes us feel more secure about what we're doing. If this is it, then we better be cutthroat and ruthless and downright fucking mean, or else what is there? The losers’ circle and a small trophy while a dog pees on your shoe and your wife leaves you and you fall down on your knees and become every Tom Waits song that ever ended badly for anyone. (Which, if you know Waits, are many, many songs indeed.)
It's a justification for behavior. It's a long rope to hang ourselves with. We convince ourselves that we're immortal. We create new drugs and patterns because what we want is more life. We're scared to die. We fear it. Losing the game, not being able to play. Finding out how right or wrong we are about what comes next. It scares us to our core, instead of being a reward. We've ruined it for ourselves.
Another ground rule, I forgot to mention but really should before we go any further: I don't necessarily believe in any afterlife, religion, or God you care to name. Just so we're clear. I'm not preaching here, I'm unraveling.
A friend asked me recently, "What would you do if you only had one year to live?" and I realized that the question was wrong. We've all, I assume, had that thought before and gone down that path. The proper question, though, is, "Why don't you always act like you have one year to live?"
Think about it. Don't treat life like you have all the time in the world to win some game. Don't treat it like there's a game to be played and won. Instead, maybe we should start looking at life for what it is: a slice of unknown time with which to do something.
Yeah, at the end of the day it's that simple.
Do something.
Not win, not lose, not fuss over all of that crap. Just be the best you that you can imagine and chase down the things you want to do. Only... chase them, and yourself, as if every day was going to be the end of the chase. Nothing tastes as good as a meal you thought you'd never have. Life is only worth living if you make it worth something.
At the end of your life, what will you be proud of? Really proud of? What will people be proud of you for? Shouldn't you work on that more each day? Is there a good reason not to?
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