Going Home
April 24th, 2008 by Gnat
I’ve been thinking about bluesy, deathy things lately. I torture myself with these morbid, mortal thoughts. Here’s something I’ve done a lot of thinking on lately: when you die, is there a moment when you realize your body is broken beyond repair? If so, what does it feel like? This would be a moment suspended in pain, obviously, because there is pain present when the body breaks. But in spite of overwhelming physical pain (or maybe because of it), at the moment of our death does our consciousness become aware that it must sever from and bid farewell to its fleshy home? Do we simply stop identifying with our fingers, legs, arms, torsos? It makes me so sad to think about that I almost can’t stand it.
I read that dying feels like going home. This is a nice thought. I also quite like what Woody Allen has to say about death:
“I’m not afraid of dying, I just don’t want to be there when it happens.”
Thanks Woody, your words are more comforting to me than most sacred scriptures.
- Posted in Death