When will I die?

It is this same morbid question that we ask ourselves on a regular basis. When will I die? What will I achieve before then? How will I be remembered?

On top of our own morbid internal voices which urge at us to lift ourselves from the mundane existence to the higher levels of spirituality, social status, and career. The seemingly recent explosion of the self improvement craze has us all, at one point or another, seeking the next best diet, sleeping plan, exercise regime, self help book, and the list goes on.

Without a clear personal direction is the desire for self improvement for the sake of itself beneficial and even sustainable? Without a strong enough goal to strive for do we risk desensitising ourselves to the proposed benefits of self improvement in such a saturated industry with outlandish claims? Humans have a great ability to subconsciously ignore that which is not immediately important, regardless of the weight it may have on future tasks or endeavours.

An interesting example to ponder is the Tikker wristwatch http://mytikker.com/. I came across this while searching for a watch with the ability to countdown ones life (seems to provide a average life expectancy based on certain parameters similar to http://www.poodwaddle.com/Life/). It seems to deliver, although I would have preferred a traditional 12 hour analog face with midnight representing birth and death. 

Without a clear life direction would this serve as constant reminder of the passing time and prompt us to get our life in order or would the gimmick soon wear off and precedence be given to immediately important endeavours? 

Isn’t that the problem in the first place? We have so many constant reminders about our impending doom such as birthdays, new years, and the ageing of our mortal forms. The problem is not that we are not reminded about the fact that time is passing. The problem is that the reminders are too frequent and insignificant for us to hold any weight in comparison to the short span of our often volatile situations.

In terms of death, let the mystery of when remain. Steer your short and longterm paths toward true happiness and your purpose will soon follow.


The stranger and the dead

With a few hours at my disposal, I found myself dawdling lost in thought, at a cemetery.

Every so often I would stop at one of the stones, and where legible, read the inscription which would encapsulate the life of the person resting below. The words represented my relationship with the dearly departed, a relationship that would last for a few moments and would read “In loving memory of John Hall, Died 2nd Feb 1950, Aged 75 years.”

Who were the many people lying amongst John Hall? Was John a good man? Who was he to his loved ones? A loving husband? A son? The favourite uncle?

The sum of the life that sat before me gave me no clues. The brown, dry flowers which lay above John’s final resting place whisper of a man once loved and still missed.

Why do we, as humans, place so much emphasis on the name that we leave behind, the memory that exists in our wake, and the few memorable deeds which spark the curiosity of strangers?

It is only now that this notion seems so absurd. Does John care that I visited his grave? Does he want to share his story with me? And, if so, what would he share?

Somehow, all of my life I had missed something so important. It seems so clear to me now. We do not live and die for strangers to share fleeting moments with our name. We are here to love many through our fleeting lives so that our relationships survive beyond our mortal lives.

The dead to not care for names nor should the living.