The concept of death, complete no-more-ness has haunted me for as long as I can remember. Of course, I was taught that we are each immortal, destined for heaven or hell, our bodies to be resurrected for certain, ascending or descending to a place from which we will not return … yet nonetheless, vanished from earth, irretrievable, gone. One of my earliest memories is a time when I wrestled with the realization that I could not recall the time before I was born. There was no darkness, no boredom, no waiting … there just wasn’t anything. Did I exist in some cellular form of earth matter, awaiting my birth? Was my soul enjoying a life somewhere else, a place now erased from my consciousness? Or were the components that would someday be me not even assembled? Was I simply nothing? Is time even as linear as we believe it to be, or have we all somehow always existed, and everything happens at once?
This disturbing revelation led me to consider what would come after I died, which I recently had accepted was bewilderingly inevitable. If the theories of God and heaven proved false, what might occur? The thought of returning to the same muteness that enveloped me before birth horrified me. Before I was born, my childhood logic told me, I was unaware of what I was missing out on: the beauties and excitement of life. After my awakening from the nothingness, I could never return to a satisfied, numb, ignorance, or even permanent unconsciousness. My sparks were now whirring, the engine running, I could not be still again.
This same notion stays with me. I believe in a God of reason and purpose who granted me life with the intent of more than 80-90 years, but even if I am wrong, I will never subside into the philosophy of eternal nothingness. Our souls were awakened for some strange and mysterious reason, and once awakened, we will never sleep in the same way again. Much like our living sleep which is aware of the thoughts, events, and desires of waking existence, our “death sleep” must too remain cognizant, present, somewhere.
How others resolve practically and unimaginatively that life leads to nothing startles me, for even the normalcy of our lives now is filled with mystery and unanswered questions. All questions have answers; why would they be asked if they would never be fulfilled? And if life is such a wretched, thrilling journey through joy, love, and heartache, unpredictable and more complex than we will ever comprehend, then why would the clandestine afterlife be uninteresting, anticipated, and bleak?
When I die, I take comfort and a dose of terror with me knowing that my eyes will meet something, something that I never expected, predicted, or understood. I do not foresee myself “resting,” but I hope, I believe, I will be in peace.