An Essence of Life - Moments

Time shouldn't be linear. The end shouldn't justify the means. Life ends in death, we all know that, but we shouldn't base everything upon that inevitable ending. Don't say "Well, we'll all die eventually, so it doesn't make much of a difference anyway."

I believe one of the essences of life is the moments that we are capable of creating and later summoning. Moments meaning. . . gosh this sounds lame. . . special moments. Like a 'bravo' someone yells at the end of one of my performances or an exchange of gazes with an intimate friend. Or perhaps your first kiss. And we remember those moments for the rest of our lives. And sometimes when I walk in the night, I'd remember when I shared my love for the moon with a good friend, and recall one of those moments. And it'd flash and I'd feel warm all over and smile and everyone else at the bus stop would look at me like I'm as bizarre and random as a walking toaster.

I had a not-so-brief talk about this thought. It was still preliminary thinking then. But now I think life is composed of a memory of these moments and the longing for the next one. And they stay with us. When I'm 65 years old, I'd walk around and have these memories warm me up everywhere I go because everything I see can remind me of a special moment. I could probably travel naked in Alaska and feel as warm as a polar bear because every flake of snow and every fiber of ice can bring up in me the fuzziest time I've spent with a loved one.

Pardon my attempt at humor there. *Grin* So back to death. I have no idea what happens after we die. Maybe we grow wings and play harp, or maybe we just. . . disappear. It's a bummer if it's the latter I know, but that's quite possibly the case. But see, I don't think the end of life is what's important. And even if our consciousness does just disappear, I think everything that 'has been' justifies our existence. All the moments we possess make living worthwhile.

I hope that the instant before I die, I'd find myself lying on a lawn and staring up into a night sky filled with stars, each a moment worth recounting and treasuring. And there's no hurry, because time has ceased (Hey, I'm about to die, right?) and I could let my mind float to one star and immerse my soul in the joy or the grief or the nervousness or the ecstasy of that moment, that star. And time wouldn't be linear. At the end of the time of my life, I would visit the worthwhile moments of living, and doesn't that make the end of my life an eternity of being bathed in warmth and comfort? I will find life worth living then.