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Today, if I was knowingly on my deathbed, I ‘think’ I would be inclined to re-evaluate how I’ve lived my life.

Though maybe I’d want to hold my kids and infuse them with all the living love energy I had remaining. Maybe I’d want to eat ice cream all day and watch cartoons. Maybe I’d want to run off to Vegas and marry the love of my life. Maybe I’d want to sleep until it was over.

I don’t know for sure.

Some people on their deathbed want to discuss the horror of Trump’s presidency, the invasion of weeds in their garden, the inconsiderate neighbor with the loud lawn mower and the cost of organic vegetables.

I’ve engaged in these discussions and admittedly have trouble being completely ‘present’ as my thoughts wander to the idea of impermanence, of how the moment I am ‘in’ will soon be only a memory to me and to them something altogether unnameable. A veil exists which I’ve no right to pierce.

The variations of formulated thinking changes from generation to generation and cannot help but be influenced by ‘society’.

I like to believe that I cannot be brainwashed and that my urges to be free cannot be taken.

I don’t know for sure.


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