Death was not the opposite of life. It was already here, within my being, it had always been here, and no struggle would permit me to forget that.
Death was not the opposite of life. It was already here, within my being, it had always been here, and no struggle would permit me to forget that.
That's the kind of death that frightens me. The shadow of death slowly, slowly eats away at the region of life, and before you know it everything's dark and you can't see, and the people around you think of you as more dead than alive.
A regular wind-up toy world this is, I think. Once a day the wind-up bird has to come and wind the springs of this world. Alone in this fun house, only I grow old, a pale softball of death swelling inside me. Yet even as I sleep somewhere between Saturn and Uranus, wind-up birds everywhere are busy at work fulfilling their appointed rounds.
I was dying. Like all the other people who live in this world.
Death is not the opposite of life but an innate part of life.
I wasn't particularly afraid of death itself. As Shakespeare said, die this year and you don't have to die the next.
You said that the mind is like the wind but perhaps it is we who are like the wind Knowing nothing, simply blowing through. Never aging, never dying.
© 2020 Inspirational Stories
© 2020 Inspirational Stories