I had a brief chat with Death yesterday, and it took all of my anxieties away. The kindly stepfather's brother is passing away from alcoholism and it is a terrible event to behold. The hospital smells, the quiet, waiting family, the minister, the doctors, and the unsteady beeps from the monitors are underlined by the silent death waiting his turn in the room.
I reached out to Death, with my mind, as I am sure countless of people have through all of history. I realized then that Death is with me all of the time. And if I reach down far enough into myself, I can hear the echo of the waiting stillness inside of me. He has been my companion for all of my life. Not just the first time my mother tried to kill herself, but at my grandmother's funeral and then, very closely at the car accident when I was 18.
And so it must be that we are all as close to death as we are to life every minute of every day. No matter what age, death and life are waiting at a moment's turn. And way too many brilliant philosophers have pondered this question for me to come up with anything close to profound.
I simply want to say, that I was struck by awe sitting in that room.