I don’t understand why people get so wrapped up over death. If you are religious, I think you would just welcome death as soon as you can – within the “rules” – (suicide = bad; suicide bomber = good, depending on your faith). Once you are dead, assuming you’ve lived a pure life, you live eternally, right? Where is the fear there? 38 virgins (28 – how many? Does it matter? WHO chose the number anyway?), and all that. Depending on what RSS feed you subscribe to, of course. (RSS – Real Simple Salvation).
Personally, I am in no hurry to die (although I have to agree that you couldn’t prove that by my actions. I drink, I smoke, I ride a motorcycle – never more than 2 of the three at a time though. Usually).
If you aren’t religious then there is no hell to fear. Just “nothing”. And “nothing” can be quite a rest after dealing with life. So non-religious people shouldn’t fear death either.
People claim I am full of shit when I say I don’t care when I die. They are mostly wrong – I want to get my kids to the point they can feed themselves. So I do not want to die TODAY, but assuming I reach my primary goal, death doesn’t scare me. But I care STRONGLY about HOW I die. How is a hell of a lot more important to me than what happens after “how”.
But when? Who cares? I won’t, I am sure. I’ll be dead.
“But don’t you want to meet your grandchildren?”, people ask. I might. But they could be brats. The argument though is silly – you might as well ask if I want to meet my great-great-great-great-great-great grandchildren. If I never meet them, I’ll never miss them. I wouldn’t anyway – I would be dead.
Why this fear of death? I don’t fear death – I fear pain – I fear lingering – but I certainly do not fear dying. The people I’ve felt most sorry for in my life are the ones who hang on day after day, week after week until they finally succumb to what is certainly their ultimate fate. We all die. Why is it so bad?
I hope I succumb after drinking a few beers on a nice sunny day, enjoying time with friends over a beer and a few good smokes, then riding my motorcycle into the exhaust plume of a launching Space Shuttle. Quick.
My will is very simple in this regard – I direct one of my oldest friends to “throw a party, make sure everyone has fun, and do what you will with anything that is left”.
Because I won’t care what happens to my money (if any). I’ll be dead. And who is to say that being dead is a bad thing. It sounds quite relaxing, actually.
We place far too much weight on death, I think. I can’t be avoided – so why fear it? If you fear death, how can you possibly be enjoying life?
I know a lot of very healthy people today that are not even living their lives – so I wonder what they hell they are afraid of death for. Life is what most people are afraid of. Life is something you can fail at. Eventually all of us succeed at death – equally.