RobinNO FINAL CURTAIN
From the outside, death looks like a body stopping.
A chair is empty.
A voice has gone from the room.
Of course, it looks final there. The world is built out of surfaces and endings.
But from the inside, the thing that is aware is never actually seen dying.
Experience changes. Forms appear and disappear. The body ages, weakens, warms, cools, breathes, and eventually stops breathing.
But awareness is not found as an object among the objects.
For me, death has lost much of its theatre.
Not because I have become reckless or cold, but because I am less fussed now.
More relaxed.
More patient.
More able to drink my coffee, warm the house, send an email, let the dogs out, and walk.
Death loses its theatre.
Life becomes more ordinary.
That feels like a pleasing exchange.
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