Alive

 I’ve been thinking about death. It’s not that I particularly want to think about it. I’ve been looking for uplifting, feel-good books to read. And I happened upon, in close succession: Welcome to the Pine Away Motel and Cabins (by Katarina Bivald) and A Man Called Ove (Fredrick Backman). And what is it about Swedish authors and death fixation? I mean, the books (especially Backman’s) are great, and they are somehow uplifting and hopeful, in spite of (or because of?) being very much about death, dying, suffering, and eternal darkness (no, not really, but it is Swedish winter in Backman’s book and Bivald’s book is set in Oregon, and it is overcast a lot… so yeah, cold and dark or cold and rainy).

And then, my son and I watched The Arrival (based on “The Story of Your Life” by Ted Chiang). More death, futility, and the future is set in stone, so what’s the point of it all? And yet, somehow, there is a sense of hope and wonder.

I’ve been thinking about life – because thinking about death kind of forces you to think about life, too. 

Death is inevitable. We all know it’s coming.

As Backman wrote in “The Man Called Ove”: 

Death is a strange thing. People live their whole lives as if it does not exist, and yet it’s often one of the great motivations for living. Some of us, in time, become so conscious of it that we live harder, more obstinately, with more fury. Some need its constant presence to even be aware of its antithesis. Others become so preoccupied with it that they go into the waiting room long before it has announced its arrival.

The real question is – am I going to live life as much as I can, do things, be ALIVE? Or am I going to be, like Backman puts it, in the death’s waiting room, always waiting, always fearful?

I tend to do the latter – I dwell on death and how it will rob me of my kids (and my kids of me). Because (as we all know) in a blink of an eye, it could all be snatched away.

Thinking about death makes me remember that I really like being alive. I want to make sure I don’t forget it. Because it is easy to forget – with all the stress, anxieties, temper tantrums, sleep deprivation, health problems and the rest of the normal life stuff – it is so, so easy to forget that I need to enjoy this. That I need to be alive.

Dear reader – you are alive. Look around. Breathe in, breathe out. Our world is a sad, messed up place. Our world is a beautiful place full of wonder and possibilities. Shalom. May peace be with you.