Is today the day?
“Everybody knows they’re going to die, ” he said again, “but nobody believes it. If we did, we would do things differently.”
So we kid ourselves about death, I said.
“Yes. But there’s a better approach. To know you’re going to die, and to be prepared for it a any time. That’s better. That way you can actually be more involved in your own life while you’re living.”
How can you ever be prepared to die?
“Do what the Buddhists do. Every day, have a little bird on your shoulder that asks ‘Is today the day? Am I ready. Am I doing all I need to do? Am I being the person I want to be?’ “
He turned his head to his shoulder as if the bird were there now.
“Is today the day I die?” he said.
From: Tuesdays with Morrie, by Mitch Albom, 1997, Doubleday
I’ve always liked the idea of Buddhism. There is no all-powerful God or Gods, no outside Savior. There is no organized central authority, no Holy Scripture containing the One Truth. The power of life and happiness is within yourself alone, and it is up to you to realize this. I can’t say I believe in reincarnation, but karma on the other hand is a very appealing concept, and there are days I hope it is more than a poetical notion.
Morrie Schwartz’s interpretation also appeals. You prepare for death by learning to live as yourself. I don’t know if that works for everybody, but it feels right to me. It’s why I’m trying to tie up loose ends now, even though I really don’t feel the Grim Reaper breathing down my neck. I fully expect to get through this whole experience in good shape, with little more than a very cool scar and some neat stories to tell. But, should something happen, I want to at least feel that I got the most out of what I was given. I think that maybe I have. But I’ll keep reaching for more anyhow.
Is today the day? Who knows? My health is holding its own, but we’d be fools to believe that Fate doesn’t have its own version of perverted fun at the expense of human lives. I’d be a fool to ignore that, with the practical jokes that the Great Cosmic Doom has seen fit to play on me already. A simple trip over a certain Grey Kitten while descending the stairs could make health issues moot. (I can only hope that if she is ever successful in tripping me, I take her with me when I go.)
I think I’m doing OK. I just need to remember to check in with the bird on my shoulder once in a while, to be sure.
Onto more mundane matters. I’ve been lounging home, recuperating. I watched some show today on that was like watching a car crash. It was garish, but I could not look away. The hostess, Jessica Something-or-other (try as I could, I couldn’t read that curley-cue writing with the set with it’s less-than-optimal reception). They kept bringing out women who’d recently had children, had told one man he was the father, and were now admitting that the child might actually be fathered by someone else. All the women and men involved were bickering, name calling, accusation hurling, posturing for the camera. She’s a Ho, he’s a liar, she’ll sleep with anything, he was cheating on my while I was in labor … it was funny until it got tedious. Behind it all was a sense of horror. Are these people real? If they are, why would these people choose to air their ugly little lives on television? And if they are for real, what of the children? Chosing between parents in this carnival atmosphere would be a no-win proposition for these poor babies. Not yet one-year old, and their chances at a successful, happy life are already in question. There was only one person I felt any respect for on that show. He refused to be drawn into the cirus, and when questioned all he’d really say that was it didn’t matter who the bioligical father of the child was; he was the real father and would see to it that the child had a good home. I wanted to give all the babies to him.
They did paternity testing and tomorrow on this show they release the results. I don’t really care who “wins” or “loses”. But I hope that man finds that the child is truly his. A heart that large deserves a reward of some sort.