Oh come on. Perfectly plausible question. What's so bad about dying?
Most of us go our whole lives trying to avoid it. Yet, none of us can, not under conditions as we understand them to be. But why? What is so bad about being dead?
When you're dead, you're not alive [insert a buffalo-sized DUH here]. Okay, I understand that. Dead = not alive. Being alive means you get to play in this beautiful playground we think of as life on earth. Being alive means you get to play with people you love and who love you. Being alive means you get to experience wind and sun and rain and clouds. Being alive means you get to BE.
None of us really knows what it is to be NOT alive.
I've been reading people's near-death experiences lately. I'm inspired when I read them. Come back and live life after having touched the hand of the Divine, seen enlightenment, felt Nirvana? Sounds delightful. Everything would seem brighter, more vibrant. Colors would be vivid. There would always be bells in the distance. Birds would cheerfully circle your head, chirping with delight that you get to spend another day in this place. Reading about near-death experiences helps me think I know a little more about what death might be like. I think about it sometimes. I never used to, but now it feels closer. Cancer makes you think.
Most of my adult life, I believed in reincarnation. My dad gave me some books when I was 17. Dick Sutphen's Past Lives and Future Loves, and You Were Born Again to be Together. Chelsea Quinn Yarbro's Messages From Michael. Reincarnation seemed so True. I accepted it. Felt way better than the bleak void of Camus and existentialism I wore in high school. Once I swallowed reincarnation, I believed whole heartedly that when I died I would eventually be reborn in another time and in another body and that I had lived many many times before. It all made so much sense, so much that I became a channel and over the years helped hundreds of people with questions about their past lives.
And then about two years ago my certainty about life and death just disappeared. I don't know what's True anymore. Isn't that odd? I made my living walking in the world of Spirit and then my security, my sense of knowing how life works, went away just in time to truly contemplate life and death. Cancer makes you think.
What's so bad about dying?
See, that's the thing. Other than the obvious — that my Kahuna, my children, and the people whom I adore and who love me would all hurt very much and I wouldn't get to be alive and see what having a long and awesome life is like and I would think I've failed at living — I can't think of anything. I still believe that whatever my spark of divine consciousness experiences in a nonphysical state would very likely be less painful, less uncertain, and less uncomfortable than living. Despite everything. It might even be a relief.
I'm not ready yet, not by a long shot, but cancer does make one think.