I think it’s unnatural that I think about mortality so much, especially at my age. I’d say that once every three days, I’m hit with a semi-whelming realization that life is indeed short. That phrase may be cliche, but its impact is never slight.
It makes me wonder what it feels like to be on your deathbed. Actually, I wonder what it feels like to be, say, 75, and knowing that death isn’t that far off.
I also wonder what it’s like after you die. I’ve chosen my beliefs on life after death, but sometimes I ask, for the sake of probably nothing better than tormenting myself, what if my belief is wrong and there’s a totally different happening that follows death?
This leads me to evaluating why I believe what I do. I imagine letting go of my tenets and assuming those of another creed.
And the result is always the same: I can’t do it.
For many reasons related to personal experiences, upbringing and surroundings, I could never truly discard my beliefs – in this case, my beliefs on life after death. Even when I imagine doing so, there’s this core sense that the ideologies I envision picking up are somehow wrong. Would things be different if my personal experiences, upbringing and surroundings were different? Probably. But that, I think, speaks to the importance of circumstances, not to the truth of my beliefs.
So, what starts as a huge question mark at the phenomenon of death turns into a period upon the affirmation of my beliefs.
Now ain’t that a mental trip.
