I couldn’t sleep last night. I was lying in bed exhausted but I couldn’t sleep. I was thinking about life, in a very big way and I wondered what it would be like to die. What comes after? Where do we go? Do we remember anything at all?
In Buddhism, our souls go to a higher plane and we don’t remember anything until we are born again and make new memories. That bothers me of course. That would mean that I would have spent this life only to forget it in the end. It’s sad. I was raised a Catholic, so there is this belief in heaven and hell. But I’d like to think that the people around me will make it in heaven, despite their imperfections and so will I , because eternal damnation just doesn’t sound very nice. I’d like to think that God out there is sympathetic enough to let us in heaven no matter how imperfect we are, because let’s face it, it’s just sooo hard to be good.
Existential Angst sucks the most doesn’t it? And in that moment, in the middle of the night, with everyone else sleeping, I understood why some people just give up and kill themselves. Because if after this there is nothing, then why go on? What’s the point? So that we can change other people’s lives? I get that. But here’s the thing, I’d like to remember. I’d like to go on. Id like to think that I can look down on Earth and see my kids and grandkids, growing and living their lives. Being in Heaven for Eternity sounds like such a long time. Yes, I am human and the secrets of the universe cannot be comprehended by me and I can never know for sure what happens after death until that moment when I die. And then if there is nothing, I won’t even realize it, because I’ve ceased to exist. I mean, all this trouble for nothing?
Sigh. Faith is the answer, I know. But faith is so hard to find when you’re lying in a hospital bed, breathing through an oxygen mask, with tubes hanging over your arms, thinking about THE END. Trust me.
It’s hard and I don’t know what to do about it.