THE DOOR TO
ETERNITY
~PLAN AHEAD~
Death in America gets a bum rap. We are a nation of thanatophobics. Our fear of death is matched only by our fear that the Medical-Industrial Complex will not discover, develop, and market (at an outrageous price) a pill or potion that will allow us to live forever. In the Culture Game that we are all taught to play one of the primary rules is that we must think of death as totally un-American, a blight on our society and an event that should be put off at all costs.
Our personal lexicons are utterly devoid of any mention of the word death, dead, or die. Any reference to death is couched in ridiculous euphemisms such as “passed” “passed away”, “passed on”, “passed over”. It is virtually impossible for most rational adults to even utter the “D” word. Look at any news paper’s obituary column and you will rarely find a simple, honest statement that the person in question has actually died: “John Smith went to be with the Lord” or “Henry Jones quietly passed over”, ad nauseum.
In the latter part of the last century some progress was made in the thorny task of bringing death in America out of the closet. Gradually the repression of this final taboo became topical enough so that we could begin openly and publicly to address, to some degree, our concerns and fears about death and dying. In the mid-70s, Elizabeth Kubler-Ross was recognized for her pioneer work with dying patients. At the same time Raymond A. Moody’s book, “Life After Life” exploded onto the literary scene and as a result the “near death experience” has become a household term.
National organizations such as The Hemlock Society and Death With Dignity were very successful in raising the public’s awareness about the disgraceful realities that surround the actual process of dying in America. In 1998 a small but determined organization called Compassion In Dying was able to bring the death with dignity movement to the US Supreme Court. In spite of these few but important achievements, as a society, we are still very much in the dark ages about death. We still suffer from terminal denial when it comes to “passing on”.
Consider the ancient tale of the Merchant of Baghdad who sends his servant to the market place in the early morning to buy the provisions for the day. In a very short time the servant returns terrified, close to hysteria. He explains to the master how he was jostled in the market place by the presence of Death. “Master, master Death looked at me menacingly and threateningly and I beg you to give me a horse so that I may ride off to Samara and escape my fate.” The master, alarmed by his servants fear, helps him saddle one of his finest steeds and watches as he gallops off to Samara. Later in the day the master goes to the market place and seeks out Death and asks, “Why did you menace and threaten my servant this morning?” Death replies, “I did not mean to frighten your servant. The look I gave him was one of shock and surprise, to see him here in the market place in Baghdad this morning, when I have an appointment with him tonight in Samara.”
We have all been given woeful pictures of what awaits us when we die. Unfortunately, other then those who have had a near-death experience, there is a paucity of hard evidence about the realities of the hereafter, (if indeed there actually is a hereafter.) Many of us were saddled at an early age with the hell and brimstone nonsense taught by too many organized religions. For most, heaven is a combination of angels, harps, and a guy with a long white beard sitting atop a throne singing, “You better watch out, you better not cry, you better not pout I’m telling you why”, or some other childish variation thereof.
Since no one has been given a preview of the inevitable event we have every right to view eternity in whatever way we wish. So why not make it up the way we want it to be, consistent with our own beliefs and personal philosophies? Day after day we make up our lives as we go along, so, at the risk of being labeled lugubrious, why not make up our death? Rather then the fear of death consider the creation of your own fantasy that includes a healthy and lively sense of humor.
I have no idea how, or when I shall take that final leap into eternity nor am I in any rush for the event to occur. However, there will be no grim reaper to usher me to the pearly gates. In fact there will be no pearly gates. A woman, a beautiful woman, a veritable cosmic mother will be there to greet me. She will enfold me in her warm and gentle embrace. She will comfort me, assure me that I am most welcome and, indeed, all paradise has awaited my arrival.
She will lead me out of the dark from whence I came to a magnificent field flooded with colors, vivid colors. There will be music with chords and arpeggios I have never heard, and in the midst of all of this glory, there will be everyone I loved and cherished in my life: my parents, my twin brother Jim, my aunts, uncles, all my relatives and friends. Then, out of nowhere, she will appear, late as usual; my daughter Kathleen. She will leap into my arms and say those two words my heart has longed to hear, “Hi Dad”. And in that moment I will discover, even in paradise, tears can flow.
When the festivities are concluded my beautiful cosmic guide will seek me out and ask if I have any requests. I will reply, “Yes. Where is God?” She will smile and say, “Do you remember as a child you were taught that God sees every sparrow that falls?” When I say yes she will smile again and continue, “John, God does not see every sparrow that falls, God is every sparrow that falls. If you will ponder that most profound thought you will come to understand there has never been and never will be anything but God. God is present in every particle of sand, in every rainbow, in all of this heaven and your vast universe there is nothing but God. Jesus said, ‘Split a piece of wood: I am there. Lift a stone, and you will find me there.’ There has
never been a moment in your struggle on earth that you were not in that Divine Presence, as you are now and always will be.”
Then I shall gather up my bedroll and chamber pot to begin my journey thru the labyrinths, catacombs and corridors of eternity. I shell seek out a few of those who made my life a little richer on earth: Shakespeare and Shelley for the words, Bach and Mozart for the music, Puccini and Cole Porter for the words and music. I will find some of the teachers who made my struggle through life a little easier: Jesus, Gandhi, Eleanor Roosevelt and Martin Luther King. Finally, because of our age difference, I shall likely predecease my wife, the love of my life. While I await her arrival I plan to hang out with Natalie Wood.
Absurd? Foolish? Perhaps, but it beats the fire and brimstone version. Why not get off that horse that leads to Samara and embrace death as the wondrous mystery that it is? What I suggest is not a morbid preoccupation with death but rather a conscious awareness of what someone termed the “delicious knowledge” that we do not have to live forever.
Death is not a tragedy. What is tragic is our denial that without death there can be no life. To those who have the courage to examine their lives with awareness death is simply the next great adventure. Rather than an issue to be avoided, death can become an important ally that allows each of us to sort out the significant from the trivial, the spiritual from the material, and to bring into clear focus the brief time we have to live and love in this life.
Have a nice eternity. God knows you’ve earned it.
John Lee served as Vice President and Public Relations Chairman of Compassion In Dying of Washington. He is the author of, Anatomy of A Good Death. Articles by Lee on life issues have been published in local newspapers. He has also been published by The National Association of Insurance and Financial Advisors. He has taught courses in Conscious Living in schools throughout the Pacific Northwest. His Estate Planning Sessions have been sponsored by the Boeing Company, the University of Washington and other business and professional organizations. He is retired from a business career and lives in Bellingham, Washington with his wife Camilla. He is now a freelance writer, teacher and lecturer.
