An Elegant Death

 "I want to go when I want.
It is tasteless to prolong life artificially.
I have done my share; it is time to go.
I will do it elegantly."

Albert Einstein

Einstein grew in importance to me during the years I was homeschooling my son, who was born three months premature. As I learned ways to teach science, I began to understand the scientific method and its essential value to humanity. Along the way, I happened upon many quotes by Einstein that I saved. The above is the latest discovery. Over the years, I have continued to search for what Einstein said about this, that, and the other thing. Especially while writing about the cosmos and imagination. I do not recall how I came upon the above gem. 

For many years, I have felt this way about the aging process, death and dying. 

While I respect each individual's freedom and right to choose their experience, their path, I have been vocal about my own choice, and that is:

• I will not do chemo
• I will not do dialysis
• I will not take a bunch of pills
• I will not opt for an organ transplant

When did this attitude begin? 

Really, around age fourteen. I saw two old women. One was the mother of my brother-in-law. She was taking a bunch of pills. She griped about everything, she was miserable, and yet kept doing all these things to keep herself in this misery; she had no quality of life, yet she obeyed this regiment of pill-taking and perpetuated her misery. She was insufferable. A pain to all who had to spend time in her groaning, whining, complaining presence. I thought, "Why doesn't she just quit taking all these pills that cause all these side effects?" The reason became obvious, even to a child: this woman was dying and she afraid to die; she was trying to stop death. 

Her mother was quite the opposite; peaceful and ready to go at any time. I rather liked her. 

During my adult life I met more people who were taking multiple pills, and learned that some were taken to counter side effects caused by the other. It seemed very odd to me. Our whole way of thinking and being about aging and dying seemed very odd to me, and still does. 

I met another old woman who was facing a second diagnosis of cancer, after being in remission for two years, following chemo and radiation. I asked her if she was afraid to die. "No," she said casually. And I felt it. She really wasn't. It was one of those ordinary moments that becomes a beacon of truth and possibility. She was not interested in going through it again. I realized I was unwilling to go through it at all. I would rather...

Simply go. 

Let go. That's all. 

Why all this clinging and clawing back a shred of youth? Sincerely, why? What is it that causes people to do this? 

As I learned more about myself and people, about faith and hope, and about ego and suffering, it dawned on me that it is ego. People fear death and try to hold off dying because they identify with the body and thoughts that they briefly occupy and that briefly pass like weather. 

I am not my body. I am not my thoughts. I am not what I do or what I have. I am what I am while I am it. And then this is gone. That is the nature of being human. A temporary presence in a particular place in the universe, as a particular thing. 

I do not fear death or dying. I fear only that loved ones will not allow me to go when I am ready to go. I fear they will plead and cajole, insistent that I do one of the above extreme medical treatments, which I consider intolerable. Truly barbaric and bizarre. I refuse to go down that road. I do not cling to this world. This is my choice. Respect it.

I am ready to go at any time. 

I have done my share. When it is time to go, when my body quits being a pleasure to live in, I am done. Quality of life is everything.

When pain comes, if the cause is cancer, I will treat the pain and plan my last hoorah. I hold this truth to be self evident: There is no death. Only a change of worlds. I am not this body. I am not a personality. 

We are more than molecules. Explore. Wonder. 

An Elegant Death

The possibilities I imagine turn me on. The afterlife described by ancient minds bore me. 

I am unburdened by the beliefs of others. My mind is free. This body is not who and what I am. I am more. This earth suit, this name, is a temporary experience. This universe is not all there is. There is more. Other dimensions beckon. 

"Security is mostly a superstition. It does not exist in nature, nor do the children of men as a whole experience it. Avoiding danger is no safer in the long run than outright exposure. Life is either a daring adventure, or nothing."  

Never read or heard that? The person who had that revelation was deaf and blind. Imagine being in this world, living with that level of vulnerability. Imagine a person wholly dependent on the kindness of others, living in absolute silence and darkness, having that realization. 

Read it again. Live it.