Permiteti-mi sa scriu azi despre moarte, fenomen la care descopar ca ma gandesc destul de des. Acum, sa nu-si faca nimeni probleme ca nu ma sinucid. :)
In primul rand fiindca nu vad de ce as face-o vreodata si, in al doilea rand, fiindca doar oamenii mediocri fac asta. Or eu, chiar daca as fi un mediocru, n-as avea puterea sa o recunosc nici macar cu un astfel de ultim gest.
Dar de gandit ma gandesc fiindca, probabil, ma face sa ma simt bine constientizandu-mi “conditia de om viu”. Oricum, cred ca n-ar trebui sa ne fie frica de moarte, n-avem motive.
Ceea ce ne sperie pe noi de fapt nu e moartea in sine ci o posibila suferinta dinaintea mortii, faptul ca unii oameni vor suferi daca noi murim, faptul ca noua ar putea, in functie de ce se intampla dincolo, sa ne fie dor de anumite persoane si, nu in ultimul rand, existenta posibilitatii de a ne “plictisi de moarte”. Si ce poate fi mai rau decat asta?
Steve Jobs zicea ca “nobody wants to die; even people who want to go to Heaven don’t want to die to get there” si avea dreptate. Tocmai de aceea m-au impresionat intotdeauna oamenii care privesc moartea in ochi. Nu ma refer aici la cei care isi risca inutil viata ci la cei care isi accepta cu resemnare moartea. Octavian Paler a fost unul dintre ei, Donald Crowdis este altul si ar mai fi exemple. Oameni care stiu ca vor muri curand, iubesc viata, nu vor sa se termine insa au curajul nu numai de a se gandi la asta ci si de a vorbi despre ceea ce simt.
It bothers me that i have to go – Donald Crowdis
“Nowadays, no matter how much I try to put off decisions until later, I must admit that everything seems to bother me. I am quite sure I have had a stroke (the final medical diagnosis is still pending), a small one I suppose, since I still drive a few weeks after my 93rd birthday. At this age, I must say that I do delight in people’s amazement when I tell them how old I am. But under all this is the knowledge that I am the oldest male on either side of my family, maternal or paternal, and I know I must go fairly soon. I just don’t like the idea.
I’ve floated on the remark “Been there, done that” for some time now, but the notion that the moment is approaching when I can no longer say this bothers me. The truth is, I don’t want to go.
There are many reasons. For too long I have behaved as if I could postpone going indefinitely, and thus have so many things that I must do first. I don’t want my successors to find out how much I could have done that isn’t done, not by a long shot. There are numerous notes and letters I must write. There are places I’ve wanted to travel, but never had the chance. Actually, each of you can, if you think yourself into my age, fill out the list. At least you can try to understand why I say that I hate to go.“