Death

When I was a kid I was kind of a loner.  Even within my own family.  And I spent a lot of time on my own by choice.  I just had a very active imagination that I felt got stifled by others–or, more likely, that I hid from others out of embarrassment.  I had (and still have) a LOT of ideas.  And no one really ever seemed to have ideas like I had.  Or if they did, no one wanted to discuss/talk about them like I did.

I also though a lot about a lot of dark stuff.  From a very young age actually.  Stuff it seemed that other kids never seemed to think about–or at least they never brought it up.  I would have liked them to if they did, because it would have made me feel not so COMPLETELY freakish.  But, I guess I rarely brought it up either.  But that was because I preferred discussing my ideas in my head with all the different parts of me…and with parts of me yet to be.  My past, present, and future self all had (and still have) a lot of 3-way conversations.

I’m glad I’ve found adult friends who make me feel not so odd about having this over-active imagination and questioning absurd ideas.

One of the things I thought about as a kid was death.  That sounds morbid.  But I didn’t think about it in a morbid way.  It was just they way kids question why the sky is blue.  I always wondered what it was like to die.  Like, the actual process of dying.  Not what happens when you die or where you go or how people die.  But those transitory moments–what are those like?

I was raised as a Christian in a rural midwest community.  There was no question that when people die they go to heaven.  And I didn’t question that.  In fact, I had a very very VERY firm faith and strong relationship with “God” from a very young age–and not just one that my parents told me to have, but one I FELT.  Spirituality has always been easy and natural for me.

Not questioning the existence of heaven as where we go when we did, I still questioned that transition from living to dead.  WHat was it like?  How did you know?  Did you know when you were dying that you were dying?

I had to have been pretty young when I came up with my solution to these questions.  And I was reminded of this early conclusion the other day and realized just how wise and profound and truthful my childhood mind was.

I had to have been between like 6 and 8 when I just naturally and easily accepted that death happens in a second and you just go on doing what you were about to do or doing the moment you died.  Like, if you died in your sleep, you kept sleeping and woke up the next day unaware you had died but you were in a new universe.  Or if you were hit by a car when crossing the street, you just kept walking into the next life that was exactly identical to the one you just left.  If you died giving birth, you just gave birth in a new life but a continuation of that moment.  If you were shot you may pass out, but you wake up and keep on going in a new universe.

I totally and completely accepted this answer my brain provided for me as a kid.  I don’t know when I stopped thinking it, but I do know that I didn’t stop believing it.  Because it came back to me when I was reading and walking the other day.  Some inner back part of my brain said something to me like, “I just died there.  And there.  ANd just now.  And now too.”  LIke each step I was dying and kept going on into my new life.  LIke every MOMENT.  I had to stop reading because the voice in my head had some seriously heavy shit it was communicating to me.

It all made so much sense to me.  Like that kind of sense that is illogical truthful-to-your-soul sense.  Of course I’m dying and being reborn in every moment.  Life is in the moments.  Death is too.  Change.  Things change and transition.  I can die in every moment and enjoy it and embrace it.  In fact, it helps me to live even more in the next moment…which is ending and dying and, oop, just died.  But no worries, here’s another.  And another.  And there are just so many births and deaths I experience that I have come to not even notice them anymore.  I don’t realized that I live and die every single moment of every single day.

I mean, it could be, right?  According to my childhood theory.  Which, I believe because of their innocence, childhood theories have even more truth to them.  Based on my young theory, I could quite possibly be dying at anytime and not know it and just go on…in heaven.  Or hell.  But luckily I am going to be dying again soon and may be then going to heaven.  Or be being reborn or whatever any religious or spiritual belief one has–I can attach that to this theory and somehow it just works.

Thanks little girl me.

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About heathencomehome

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One Response to Death

  1. Pingback: blog on a blog | Heathen Come Home

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