@mir123 What a great idea! We learn so much from each other, as this forum continually proves, thanks to all the contributors in their willingness to openly share the questions and answers that have been revealed in their life stories. I do find myself wondering what it is that I will die from, but something that I personally find very comforting is, that life is changed, not taken away. That was what came to mind, Miriam, when you wrote that you see life and death as being interconnected. So true!
Peace,
Barb

@mir123

There is a wonderful drawing by Goya, drawn when he was 80 years old. It shows an old man with two walking sticks, holding tightly to them, but taking a step forward. The caption says “Aun aprendo,” - I’m still learning -
Another drawing, possibly done the same day, shows an old man in rags on a swing, swinging vigorously, grinning from ear to ear.
I don’t know what Goya meant by these drawings, but I enjoy them very much.
They remind me how, growing old after a difficult, painful life, Goya learned new graphic techniques and painted until he had a stroke at 82.

I was very moved by what Miriam wrote:”I want to add that I see life and death as so interconnected that I don't feel that my death needs a particular religious or spiritual approach.
…I'm in a great Death Cafe--four friends monthly on zoom--and we have started to really focus on the concept that how we want to die is also how we want to live.”

In my understanding I don’t think of my personal life/self as living on after death.
I think of life as made of many interleaving layers of individual lives, sharing our many abilities, loves and needs to make our shared and individual lives possible.
This view imagines Living as Contact.

We often speak in terms of Life as Measurement….actuarial tables, for example. More years, more money, more power… Perhaps we imagine Life as Measurement a bit too often.

Thinking of Living as Contact leads me to the real people, of many generations, who have touched me every day in ways that shaped the course of my real life. Sometimes big things, sometimes little, sometimes wonderful, sometimes very difficult. Some of them I wanted so much to change, as they wanted to change me, but we could not. Sometimes it was a contact from which I still rebound, but it was very real.

Now all those layers of older generations are gone, and I’m beginning to witness the deaths of fellow members of my layer.
Watching as my layer “peels off” shows me that some day I will also peel off.

But I’m still learning.
I’m learning that the time during which I can share with others is extremely precious.
I’m realizing that I want to learn more about sharing, and perhaps be less driven to always learn more and more. Maybe I can learn to listen better.

My friend Cathy is very ill.
I want to play music for Her, not the music of my biggest ambitions.
I want to give the music I can play that is best for her.
And she will listen for me. She will help me to share.
This has always been my ambition.
It’s just taking me a while to find it.