Sept 2, 2026–Five years ago, while dying, I learned some things about life.
While I don’t recommend it, almost dying is a way to achieve perfect clarity as to what matters and what does not matter.
Existing in the liminal space between light and darkness, I glimpsed some eternal truths that stay with me still.
First, no one cares if you’re dead. Your legacy is stuff you didn’t think would be your legacy. It’s not your job, your jokes, or your journals. All that matters is the people whose lives you’ve touched. Funny, you’ll never really know who those people are and how you touched them.
Stuff you thought was important, isn’t.
That includes money, job, chores, cleaning the bathroom, politics, the news, your feelings, social media, your opinion on anything, and advice, however well meant.
Stuff you thought was unimportant, is.
Most important? Family. A cliche, but when you are literally flat on your back, only your family cares. And family includes friends, even the ones you didn’t realize you had.
We are connected.
Everyone is connected. Every thing is connected.
The greatest of these truly is love.
You feel a deep and abiding love for every single caregiver, nurse, janitor, food service worker, tech, custodian, stranger, even the meteorologist on the 6:00 news describing weather you might not live to experience.
Energy flows everywhere.
The universe is an ethereal force flowing everywhere and even through places we don’t recognize as places. We are a giant vibrating harmonic presence that cannot be described with words. Energy flows back and forth and around and through. It has no source. It has no destination. It just is.
Control is an illusion.
When you are dead, you realize you have no control over anything. And that’s OK.
Ambiguity is certain.
What is our purpose? Our goal? Or reason for corporeal existence?
If all of the above does not matter, what is the point of trying to make it matter? Of building anything? Of sharing ideas? Or bettering anyone? Of achieving optimum health?
Where is the edge of existence and non-existence? As you near it, that boundary line becomes less defined, less meaningful. They are just two different states of matter, each equally valid and real.
Dignity is a veneer.
How quickly you get over being self-conscious when you lay dying. Nudity, body functions, needles and shots. You are stripped bare of any inhibitions. Clothes don’t matter. Shame doesn’t exist. You are meat on a slab.
The biggest surprise of almost not existing? I was always hungry. Coffee was ambrosia. Eggs, bacon, and toast a feast for kings. And I always craved chocolate. I think it’s because when you are faced with the loss of earthly pleasures, the only pleasure left is eating. I never lost my appetite. In fact I was voracious. Hunger was probably my body telling me I was not quite ready to shuffle off this mortal coil and needed to get my energy back.
The most important wisdom I gained? When you leave this world, the world will go on.
And so will you.