(no subject)
I've tried not to think about it for a long time but the truth is, around this time last year, almost everything changed. Things I'd thought would remain positively unalterable simply crumbled to the ground, or else twisted and shifted into something new, foreign, unrecognizable. The very nature of my life changed for me last summer, since I spent the majority of it wondering if that life was coming to an end. I'd never even faced my own death as a distinct possibility before, let alone a blatant inevitability. Well, I faced it. I might really have died. I could have been sick for years. I might never have had children. I sat at the edge of my bed at night wishing that I believed in prayer, wishing that I could figure out what, exactly, I did believe in. For weeks I wondered if I deserved what was happening to me, and slowly I accepted the fact that it just didn't matter. Justice is a human notion. Rightness is born of the heart, and the universe has no such muscle, just as it has no eyes to watch over us, no hands to hold ours when pain causes us to reach out for something, for anything. The world doesn't care if I deserve to die or not. The world doesn't care about what I do with what little time I've got. But I do. I care. I let death into my life last summer and I've let it stick with me since, to remind myself that no one is keeping score. To remind myself that the content of my life has no bearing on its duration. To remind myself that my life is my own, and that I live it with justice and rightness in mind for myself and no one else. To remind myself that it could all be done tomorrow, and that today better have been worth it.
Recently it's been brought to my attention how greatly I have been shaped by what I went through last year. There have been some not-so-subtle changes (my spotless academic record; my ever-expanding appreciation for my parents; my severe aversion to all things dishonest), but other developments have taken time to fully surface. Children; I could watch them all day. I see them playing and I want to join in on the game. I hear their conversations and I want to experience all the contents of their imagination. I see them in harm's way (balancing on the edge of a sidewalk, leaning precariously in a chair, running too quickly on uneven ground) and I want to go to them, and catch them if they fall, and save them from ever feeling pain. I have begun to understand how painful it must have been for our parents to watch us break away from them, to watch us stumble off into our own world, to watch us endure the devastation of growing up. We are more precious to them than anything - most likely more than their own lives. I feel this to be true.
There are a lot of things that I would like to accomplish before my time is up, but facing up to the reality of death has certainly shaped my priorities. I want a family. I do. Yes, I want to study, and to have my papers published, and to teach, and to work, and to do something noticeably important to this world. I want all of those things badly. But trying to achieve many of those things will be like swimming upstream; there will always be more work to be done. There will always be more books to read, more subjects to study. The world will never stop needing good people to do good things. I could live to be a hundred and ten and never be satisfied with these kinds of accomplishments.
But if I can be loved by someone, and if I can love them well in return, and if I can be honest and true to them... and if I can do right by my children, and teach them to want to do right by themselves, and if I can give them the sense of pride and purpose my parents have given me...
If I can mean the world to the people in my life, then there will be no tragedy in my death. There will be nothing left unfinished if I can leave myself behind in the people I care for. The world doesn't care whether or not I deserve to die. But I do. And others will. And I have work to do, regardless.
Recently it's been brought to my attention how greatly I have been shaped by what I went through last year. There have been some not-so-subtle changes (my spotless academic record; my ever-expanding appreciation for my parents; my severe aversion to all things dishonest), but other developments have taken time to fully surface. Children; I could watch them all day. I see them playing and I want to join in on the game. I hear their conversations and I want to experience all the contents of their imagination. I see them in harm's way (balancing on the edge of a sidewalk, leaning precariously in a chair, running too quickly on uneven ground) and I want to go to them, and catch them if they fall, and save them from ever feeling pain. I have begun to understand how painful it must have been for our parents to watch us break away from them, to watch us stumble off into our own world, to watch us endure the devastation of growing up. We are more precious to them than anything - most likely more than their own lives. I feel this to be true.
There are a lot of things that I would like to accomplish before my time is up, but facing up to the reality of death has certainly shaped my priorities. I want a family. I do. Yes, I want to study, and to have my papers published, and to teach, and to work, and to do something noticeably important to this world. I want all of those things badly. But trying to achieve many of those things will be like swimming upstream; there will always be more work to be done. There will always be more books to read, more subjects to study. The world will never stop needing good people to do good things. I could live to be a hundred and ten and never be satisfied with these kinds of accomplishments.
But if I can be loved by someone, and if I can love them well in return, and if I can be honest and true to them... and if I can do right by my children, and teach them to want to do right by themselves, and if I can give them the sense of pride and purpose my parents have given me...
If I can mean the world to the people in my life, then there will be no tragedy in my death. There will be nothing left unfinished if I can leave myself behind in the people I care for. The world doesn't care whether or not I deserve to die. But I do. And others will. And I have work to do, regardless.