La Muerte

Maybe it’s because I am growing old and it’s the course of things, or maybe I have exhausted all the other ways to challenge my brain (scoff! not!), but it’s been a few days since I finally understood why some people welcome la muerte.

Acceptance?

And no, it’s not about depression or other dark things. It’s simply about … acceptance?
Maybe acceptance that you have done almost everything that stood in your power to grow, to help, to evolve; maybe acceptance that you are limited and that was all you had to offer to this world.

The voice within

I tend to believe that we are born knowing it all, somehow connected to the big picture, where all is one and makes sense. After birth, we start petrifying. Cell by cell we grow rigid, we slowly take the shape we were initially poured into.

The only thing that nature can’t rob us is that voice inside. A subtle connection we have with the universe. It is that voice that guides us in life, that silent partner in the inspired decisions or the invisible question marks at the end of every “I love you” we don’t actually mean. It’s the same voice we hear when we “have a feeling” or when we know that it’s time to call quits, time to have a rest.
I think it is this voice that first lets us know we have reached our zenith.

First instinct

Sure, at first we panic, maybe rationally convince ourselves that we still have many things to do, many things to be, make lists, give reasons, search ourselves for all the times we have done something wrong, wondering if it’s retribution time, make plans how to come back from it.

Acceptance!

If we are patient with ourselves, that too will pass. And in the end we will be left with acceptance — the purest, most dignified kind of feeling. Why? Because together with acceptance comes peace, and then happiness.