Death is a forbidden subject at most tables. Most people ignore and neglect even thinking of death and then when it comes for them or the people they love, they lose it. In fact, it is to the point where crazy reactions and psychological meltdowns are expected, encouraged and permitted. Death is one of the few certainties of life and that little piece of knowledge can be put to good use in terms of deciding the type of life we choose to lead in the present.

Many of us see no importance in thinking about death until it hits home, and when death comes, many people fail to even make a deep personal connection with their own culture’s traditions toward mourning and death. We process the loss and the guilt but too often, we don’t apply the experience to our lives. Many of us avoid thinking of death is out of superstition that we will somehow hasten our demise by merely thinking about it, and in the past, I have been guilty of this, but death is something for which everyone can prepare and we should all think about. It is when we think about death that we can develop a great appreciation and calling to enjoy and maximize our quality of life.  If you’ve survived a car crash, or simply heard the sound of screeching tires, I bet it got your blood pumping and at least for a moment, you thought about death and your life and new in an instant that there was much you wished to do and experience. You need not wait until those moments come to ponder the quality of your life.

Approaching life with the illusion of permanence is counterproductive to seeking a good quality of life. The notion that we will be here for a long time leads to superficial activities and procrastination that undermine ourselves and others. Creating the illusion that life is long makes it easier to put off the meaningful pursuits.

Here are some  helpful thoughts and things to say to yourself, that will help you maintain an awareness of death and use it to your advantage.

Because death can’t be avoided, my life only grows shorter and I’ve got such limited time; I must take advantage and do great things.

Because, my lifespan is indefinite, there are many causes of death and very, very few causes of life, and the time of death is unknowable due to the fragility of the body; I must do great things NOW!

Because at the time of death, my friends, my wealth and my body will be of no help to me, I must be spiritually and mentally prepared, satisfied with my efforts and contributions and avoid bitterness and anger.

Everyone should try to explore the opportunities to understand life, including death. A developed understanding of death makes for better coping mechanisms. Confront and prepare for an inevitable journey. I was recently reminded of our bodily rental agreement with the great creator,  helping my girlfriend when she discovered the boy of one of the family dogs in her parents backyard, and had this to say about it.

I found it different, to find him there, different from the news finding my ear. It was close. It was recent. The dog was not a dog; there was something empty about him; a husk of a husky.  Only a ringing left where a vibrant frequency was once heard, like losing perception, I could no longer pick up his transmission. It was not as if he had left but it felt as if I had gone partially deaf and could no longer hear him. I didn’t worry for his journey, my thoughts of worry were focused on those who would miss him. They to had to go on a journey, unpacked, unprepared, and often so it is, such a devastating trip to grieve.

As we wrapped him in shrouds and carried him away, it was strange to look at a rigored body, like seeing a frozen ocean; so use to the ebb and flow, the rolling waves of breath, the mind becomes dizzy and plays tricks as you look on with a thousand yard stare, looking for signs.

As vessels harden, it becomes easier to think of them as discarded husks; some invisible seed or blossom floated away leaving dry leaves and decay. I was well prepped to handle this tragedy and felt shame for feeling such curiosity. Pen in hand, mind in motion, I can meander in these situations. I worried for the family who are left to suffer and struggle, finding it so hard to process.  I had no words for them, I could think of none that would bring comfort. Tis a reminder, there will be more times when I am surprised; when someone escapes me and takes all comforts with them, and one day still when I too will be greedy, and take all words, leaving only grief for loved ones.

We loaded the dog in the truck and took him to the vet hospital to be cremated. It was a different experience than a funeral. Participating in the technicalities made it all the more strange…and interesting. After we arrived at the pet hospital, we transferred the remains onto a flatbed and it held its form like a plastic mold, as seemingly unnatural as a flamingo lawn ornament. The three of us wandered the halls down to the pathology department where the necropsy was to take place. I kept a blank look, fearful that to keep my normal SNAFU look would be an insult of some kind. I was also afraid to invoke emotion by expressing it. I didn’t want to expose my childish curiosity by asking too many questions either.

My girlfriend escorted me to a room where I was to wait until after she had collected a paw print from the dog.  I scribbled some thoughts down on paper. Secretly, I felt lucky; not sad, lucky to be detached enough to simply observe and think not of grief, not of death, but of life. I thought of life in this time of death. For some reason I felt comfort. There is something of a home and a family in times of grief. There is something in the fray, the surprise and emergency that comforts. I suppose it is the certainty of purpose, a call to service; one of the few moments for true virtues, friendship and compassion to shine. I wasn’t brought up with  table manners or a sensitivity to politically correct speech or the like.

Much can be learned from an awareness of  death. The delicate nature and indeterminate shelf life of our own fleshy cartons and blurry expiration dates remind us to that we are best enjoyed by the present, the now, the next 10 minutes.

First, let me clear the rumors. That is not a photo of me flying from the second story, through the air onto a pile of air mattresses. That is  my inner child and stunt double. I wrote a post earlier this week on thought2profit about things I did/do while under-employed. After writing the post, I found this photo. This photo reminds me of how positive and happy I should be with what I have not what I do not. We should all be so lucky to have so much free time and alcohol to do something so reckless, hilarious and fun. Feeling down about the economy and joblessness is a waste of time and a submissive response to world that would have you chained to a desk. This photo reminded me that there are opportunities and ways to make a living that don’t require 100% of my time.

The image makes me crack a mischievous, slightly withholding Chesire Cat smile. As dumb as it is, I think every guy who sees this photo would think ” hmmm… could be fun..”These are the things we do when we feel free.

The thought makes me wonder, Why do I look at this with eagerness and want? Am I not free? Am I neglecting my inner child? Out of the many things I’ve done in the lull of the past year, I realize that my inner child has been neglected. I have not played as I should have, else you’d be looking at an incriminating picture of me. This photo inspires me. I can’t wait to play, let loose and really live. I am glad I can get so much from some random Internet picture.

I look at this picture and think of the quote from the movie, Little Miss Sunshine; ” You do what you love, and fuck the rest.” This photo also reminds me of the many times I have almost died doing exciting and fun things. It reminds me of taking 1 too many risks that landed me bankrupt. It reminds me of the times when I have been deathly ill and struggled with chronic conditions. It reminds me of my friends and family who have been through the same. There is so much love for life and excitement here. I’ll take more of that…and fuck the rest.

If you’d like to read the original post 36 Things I Did While Funder-Employed, Click here.

36 Things I Did While Funder-Employed

The move is a slow and steady flow of necessities only and trinkling of trinkets. I am careful to carry on more baggage of any kind into my new digs and expect the move will take weeks.  I am car not haunted or burdened with an addiction to novelty, consumption or ownership. I have brought with me principles of simplicity, mobility, independence and control- packed neatly in my backpack, next to an old Bokowski novel.  I disguise the personal implications with crisp language and sneak them to work, so they never escape my thoughts.  I came into this new home as light in hand, empty in pocket, and full in mind as I could.

The belly of thoughts I have saved is now wisely dispensed on works, community and meditation.  I have become leaner with the expense and my stomach grumbles of real hunger.  The bare shelves and matching stomach will not stay for long as I will redecorate and fill them both with only the finest of fuels.

My other appetites are playfully neglected and compensated with constant physical activity, conversation, community and friendship. I have 3 roommates to torment and am comitted to the cause. They keep me entertained with their drunken displays and cheap laughter.  All in the house are pleasant and easy going…so far.  I, however being the youngest in the house have already been called out to be measured on wit and prowess, challenges I gladly take and asses handed over quickly, quietly and without gloating.

Trooper, my ironically named, slightly timid dog is happy to live with me in such a large home with a playmate and fellow rescue dog Bailey. Trooper has discovered the art of rolling in the dirt, a forgotten practice of childhood all youngsters his age enjoyed. His sleek smooth and shiny black coat turn gray and camoflauged which I am confident he uses to disguise himself from passing, unsuspecting squirrels and rats on the fence.  Rumors are floating of murder and decapitation of the vermen, but I have yet to witness a kill.

I began brushing the dust off of neglected projects and scribble stacks of yester year. The half songs and half hearted entries that never made it to post now sit quitely in peripheral like bean cans in a bomb shelter during hard times.  My Just in Case pile, things to sort and process- a thickly stacked journey ripe with adventure is clearly ahead for me. In the alphabet of addictions I seem to be stuck on the W’s work,  working out and writing. I can’t imagine where they will continue to take me.