As I get older I think of the end of the road.
Not because I want to get there but because I know I will.
I am not rushing but Time is pulling me. Faster and faster into the abyss
I am not alone. My friends, relatives are around me, getting older
The thought crosses my mind from time to time. Who will be first?
I push it away. It is natural but I don't want to think about death.
Not their death. But I am thinking of mine.
When my turn comes, my family, my friends so dear to me...
They will grieve. But time will move them away, away through the turbulence of life
As days, weeks and years carry them along, the pain subsides. Life takes over. Memories fade.
I hope. I want my loved ones to keep going, to live, to enjoy the ups and downs of this crazy ride - life
As my life in this world ends, will it be the end? I wonder.
The end? Some say our souls are immortal. At least from a human perspective.
I don't believe in immortality. What was the beginning necessarily will end.
But instinctively we do not want to simply vanish forever. It is hard to accept forever.
Our world, our human world. It is in turmoil.
Hate and ignorance, wars and famine, suffering that we brought upon ourselves
Greed and self-importance are poisoning people. Sometimes I feel I am ready for the end, my end.
Why? Why are people doing this to themselves? Are we here to hurt one another?
We are just little sparks, blips on the surface of the immense ocean, this mysterious, scary and beautiful Universe.
We know nothing about it. We do not understand it. But arrogance is our trait.
I wonder if we are even noticed by this living, moving and magical something. We call it the Universe, God for some.
Rich and poor, black and white...we are all the same. Children of our planet. Unwanted children perhaps.
Our Earth is just a little speck at the edge of our very ordinary Galaxy, the Milky Way.
One of billions and billions of galaxies. And yet we are full of self-importance, as if the Universe rotates around us.
But we are defenseless against Time. All of us. Rich and poor. Black and white.
And as the years go by I wonder. Why bother? Are we here for the Universe?
What difference does any of our activities matter?
That some of us will get better coffins or headstones?
Death is a great equalizer. In a few years all the coffins will rot. Cheap and fancy alike.
Headstones remain but the chain of generations breaks easily and memories melt away.
But through all the doubt and anxiety, through the hopelessness and despair,
I hope there is a Reason. Some higher reason, higher Reality
I hope for all of us, for this extraordinary creation that is the Universe
I hope for this breed of life, this species, humanity, also still barbarian and violent
I hope we humans will survive in spite of ourselves, survive and mature.
Survive and join the universal consciousness. And will become one with God
My God - the Universe.
I do not know the Reason. This is the eternal question.
Why are we here? What is Here? Maybe we are not supposed to know. Maybe we are not ready to know? Not yet?
I am reading my scribbles now trying to finish my thoughts, to finish what I started. It has been awhile.
Before I had a cardiac arrest. One moment I was fine and then I woke up in the hospital three days later not having any idea of what had happened.
Against all odds I am back. Thanks to the people who saved my life.
Some consider it a miracle. My guardian angel saved me, they say.
There must be a reason, a purpose for me still being here, they say.
I don't know. What is my purpose in this life? Is there a purpose, a task I need to complete?
My loved ones are happy I am alive and well. They are not concerned about the reason, the purpose.
And I will do my best to keep them happy.
And I appreciate this life more and will try to live in the moment while trying to comprehend what happened...
If the doctors had not been able to bring me back, I might never have known that I had existed...and died.
Think about that!
A quiet peaceful evening. We are walking slowly on the beach. Late sunset, soft waves reflect the colored remnants of daylight. Dark silhouettes of birds in the purple background of the low and tired sun.
Thoughts and dreams envelop me becoming one with this mysterious late dusk.
What was here in the past? Thousand of years ago. Was somebody walking on this beach just like we are now? I am trying to feel, to see them. How did they look?
In the twilight I see shades of the past, of the future. Slowly floating, changing, mysteriously shifting shapes. What was here a million years ago? What does the future hold? Will somebody walk here, watching the sunset, a million years from now? Will people be here on this planet? Some intelligent beings?
Maybe not people, some strange creatures that evolve from us, humans.
There are thoughts that past, present and future coexist. That there is a multitude of realities.
My imagination unites the realities and I can see past the present and future in the changing shades and colors of twilight. We are all walking on the beach watching the dying sun's last purple projection of clouds. Who are they, these creatures? What are their dreams, hopes, worries. Do they think about us?
Sometimes at dusk when the world becomes surreal, filled with a soft ocean breeze and strange fleeting, changing colors, the reality changes as I am walking on the beach that is strangely the same and yet so alien, so different.
I am walking on the beach in a different time, in the past long gone. Or maybe in the future. Thousands of years from my time. They don't see me, these beings walking beside me.
I do not want to separate dream and reality. Their reality is real for them. Do they feel us? Think about other times? Do they feel the mystery of the world? Are they fascinated by it?
In Ray Bradbury's, “Martian Chronicles”, Human and Martian meet on Mars in a strange half dream, half reality. Each in their own reality. The Human and Martian cannot physically touch each other – they are just a shade, a mirage for each other.
The Human sees a dead planet with remnants of civilization long gone. The Martian sees a vibrant and busy world at the height of his civilization.
And I wonder if millions of years from now our world, our dreams, our thoughts will still be here, somewhere in some form, a non-physical form, but in some other reality, real nevertheless.
Have others, some intelligent beings, visited our world in the distant past? Where did they come from? What brought them here? What secrets does Earth hold about epochs of another time?
Why are we here? The oldest question.
Our lives are short. Just one breath of the Universe and we, humans, have come and gone.
What great civilizations, what life was roaming the Universe millions, billions of years ago? These questions, the mystery of existence in different times, other realities are fascinating to me. What life will be millions, billions years from now after humanity is long gone? And forgotten. Forgotten by whom?
Archeologists are finding old ruins, remnants of past cultures, civilizations vanished in the currents of time, a mirage now. Scarce remnants of peoples who lived and loved and hated. Their dreams, their struggles and aspirations are nothing but dust. A thin layer of dust.
People whose reality, whose civilization was the most important in the universe. Some were rich and powerful, some poor and powerless. All that is left is just a layer of dust.
I wonder if, thousands of years from my time, archaeologists will find some artifacts in the dusty desert and will try to understand, to imagine what life was like in those long forgotten times. And how the people of a long vanished civilization, us, lived and died.
Rich and powerful, poor and powerless, all equal. Just a layer of dust in the desert.