Mortality as a rudder to the ship of living

I have had a recurring dream my entire life since a very young age that begs and pulls at my underlying pre-occupation with mortality.  It was my job to fly all over the world, part of a legion of samaritans, and whisper “you are deeply loved” in the ears of dying people.  As their last autonomous gasp for air enters their lungs…. their minds are calmed and bodies held near as their passing into nonlinear time and release from consciousness included awareness of love, bringing peace…. if there was no family, if there was no one near, it was my job to be there for these people that may be alone…. but still deeply part of the human condition and experience.

I would wake up calm, and very much at peace from these dreams.  They were incredibly emotional, but it seemed that I had a handle on mortality, and I was able to understand the experience like Buddha.

Entropy…. everything breaks down, from technology to our bodies.  Like the tagline of that troubling “Irreversible” says, “Time destroys all things”.  Possibly a tad dramatic, it is true that I can’t shake the spectre of mortality weighing on my mind.  There is a tremendous vulnerability in regards to our mortality… Religions attempt to reconcile it, philosophers attempt to release you from it… but it ebbs and flows in a way that is a constant torment, to be frank.  If not torment, it is a vital thump that drives the rhythm of my life.  I suggested it was not unlike a rudder to the ship of living.

I don’t often get weighted down in the concept of my demise… it does loom from time to time, of course.  It is mainly a pre-occupation with the selfish reflection and awareness of other’s mortality that spawns this furrowed brow.  But it hasn’t been for years that I have had to deal with death, mostly in regards to the passing of the young and foolish.

Just this morning, I watched my neighbour carted away by the coroners.  A kindly gent of 76 passed in his sleep.  He spoke about 7 languages, was erudite and could be caught reading various texts in the afternoon sun.  To me I grit my teeth and claw my eyes thinking about that age.  It is seemingly so young, but it can’t possibly be.  It reminds me of gut wrenching sadness to come, and it haunts me.  In your sleep is possibly the finest demise you could hope for, but it still seems sort of a hollow concellation in many respects.

Now I glower at the prospect of watching the brave and noble shuffle this mortal coil due to the ticking clock that watches over us.  I get scared to think of people close to me… and like my pop says, “just don’t think about it”.  It is easier said than done.

But it is funny how much a couple passages from the Tao te Ching comfort me in my absence of beliefs, and helps calm me when I am my most despondent and reeling.  I well with tears and times, and it doesn’t wipe them away.  But it is something I can understand while my lonely tears cling desperately to my eyelid.

It reminds me that life is very much now, and the brilliant thing about when it ends is that we can still cherish the memories.  But my belly still aches for the slipping of loved one’s mortality.  That loss is so sickening…. and profound.

So I can only breathe.  I can only let the visceral emotion reverberate around my being and I live in the center and exhale sadness in light of the beauty of this experience that we cannot ever, ever hope to control.

So now I give myself a new exercise of releasing this dread.  It isn’t mine to carry with me.  I live passionately and deeply as I am… and there is nothing I could change to improve the experience less exercise a bit more.  But this release will re-energize my dedication to my fellow man, to help and hug and love and experience and live.