I didn't need to recall the death and funeral of my grandma that was two years ago, I just let realization to open me. That man is gone and that will happen to me and to all the people I know. We’ll all go. We will all die. No one will survive life. And the last man who will die in my life would be me.
To even start to get a grasp on the fact that I will disappear is very hard. That is completely out of the rational understanding. My ratio tells me that I was always here, all the time and so it is unimaginable that one day I'll be gone. Erased. Nullified. Gone. Vanished into thin air. Like I have never been here.
But I will.
That is the only thing I can be sure of.
Only I don't know when.
Having that in mind the question I'm asking myself is: What's the point? What is the point of having children when I'll disappear? Or writing a book? Or get married? Or earn million bucks? Or fuck the playmate of the month? Or be virtues? Or achieve anything or lose everything? What's the point? Why bother if I'll die in the end. All these goals and achievements that our culture currently propagates so eagerly are completely insignificant compared to death. I'm sure that is the reason why death and elders are removed from mass media, why we live in culture of youth, beauty, fun and leisure. I strongly believe that is also the reason why all that Twilight saga bullshit is so popular. We will live forever, young and beautiful (even if that means we'll rip other people's throats and drink their blood, suck their life – ultimate selfishness).
I don't think life by itself has a meaning. It's like we discuss what the meaning of wolf's life is? A Wolf's life doesn't have a meaning. The meaning is beyond wolf's understanding. The wolf couldn't even pose that question. The wolf's life is just life and he does what his instincts order him to do (and newagers call that freedom – Jesus Christ!). There is no meaning in a wolf's life. So, there is no meaning in our lives too. Life is life and that's it. There is no meaning in life. Meaning of life is to live (and die in the end :-)). And that's it. If we want meaning – we need to give it to life.
The last sentences of my friend's grandpa were:
"Do not sue the driver. The man isn't guilty." He was run over by a driver who was blinded by the morning sun and didn't see an old man crossing the street.
"Take care of each other. Don't argue with each other." He said that to his wife and daughter.
"I'm sorry I didn't make a will." He had poor pension and didn't have any wealth.
On the other hand, my friend was in the hospital and doctors couldn't agree what's wrong with him. So he asked, after couple of weeks sitting in the dark. One of the doctors told him he had cancer and he wouldn't live more than a few months (in his opinion, of course). It was a wrong diagnosis but my friend realized that he will die. So, after a long night of thinking, in the morning he picked up the phone and started to call all of his ex-girlfriends to apologise for being an asshole.
Does the understanding of our mortality gives meaning to our lives or makes us better people? Don't know. My experience after 3 months of everyday meditation on death and impermanence is that it has broken my heart. At least cracked it. Suddenly, I realise that I have no time and that only thing I need to do is to change. Not myself, not the others, not the job but the way I live. Did I realise that I’ll die? Not quite. Have I found the meaning of life? Of course not. Had I become better person? Don’t know. Maybe.
But it’s a start.
