I am going to die. Hopefully not right away. But I am going to die. Despite the rapid technological advancements in all kinds of sciences, we are nowhere near finding immortality solutions. And since I don’t believe in magic of the unexplained kind, I have no option but to accept that I am going to die.
Why is this rather obvious declaration necessary right at the beginning? Because this fact is the raison d-être for my writing this. I am writing this because I have what I call in all my modesty, profound wisdom, to share with the world.
You there, are you saying that the world at large doesn’t care about the profundity emanating from those who aren’t certified A-rated celebrities? Well I must concede to that, albeit reluctantly, albeit with some minor punctures to what I see as a neither so small nor so large an ego.
So let me restate my writing objective then. I write for my children. I may or may not live till they grow up and I am utterly aghast at the thought of my children missing out on all the wonderful wisdom that I have gained. Readers must be their own judge of the size of my ego – my estimates are but by definition biased, aren’t they?
Enough you say of this immodest prologue, and on with whatever sagacity, you’re promising! So be it then.
The fact that we are all going to die is often ignored. We don’t buy insurance, or at least enough of it for that reason. We don’t plan for inheritance, and the bigger the inheritance, the less likely it is planned, it would seem. We don’t focus on what we really want to do. We get into the rat race of ever spiralling vicious cycle of unnecessary wants and the need to earn more money anyhow to meet those wants.
In 2007, a series of fortunate but serendipitous set of events led to my wife and I enrolling in a workshop where we had to confront death. I cried that day. I told my wife that I loved her. I realized that I had emotions (of course, they tend to surface only in extreme cases, such as when I watch soppy romcoms, but more on that later). I realized how I would like my life to be. It propelled me to write my mission statement. It gave direction to the dynamic aspect of my state of being in dynamic perfection. Did I not warn you about the inaccuracies of the judgement of my ego? I promise, this is the last such statement (in this post). And no more apologies anymore – although references to my discernment, or the perpetual state of being in dynamic perfection are still going to be rather frequent, I must say. This is after all autobiographical of sorts. Wait, wait, you say, you are here for the comic element as well. I will try and keep that intact as well then, won’t I?
And yes, you are going to have many such diversions. I just hope that you will find them as entertaining as I find them in own head.
Back to the big moral then – death is a great teacher, unless of course death strikes you before you realize this, in which case you’re dead and you don’t care that much about growing, learning, living, loving, playing and all of that to any great extent. So welcome death in your lives to learn from it!