A few minutes ago, I stepped onto the deck
of the house. From there I could see and hear the water,
and everything that’s happened to me all these years.
It was hot and still. The tide was out.
No birds sang. As I leaned against the railing
a cobweb touched my forehead.
It caught in my hair, no one can blame me that I turned
and went inside. There was no wind. The sea was
dead calm. I hung the cobweb from the lampshade.
Where I watch it shudders now and then when my breath
Touches it. A fine thread. Intricate.
Before long, before anyone realizes,
I’ll be gone from here.

Raymond Carver (1938 – 1988), an American short story writer and poet, was a notable writer of the late 20^th century and contributed to the revitalization of the American short story. He described himself as “inclined toward brevity and intensity.” He struggled for many years with alcoholism and was part of a group of writers who focused on the sadness and loss in the everyday life of ordinary people. (Summarized from Wikipedia)

“Before long, before anyone realizes, I’ll be gone from here.”
Here today, gone tomorrow. All of our lives hang by a thread like the delicate cobweb that shuddered in Carver’s breath. The Hindus (or is it the Buddhists?) sometimes meditate in grave yards to be reminded that nothing lasts – including stars, suns, dynasties, governments, fame, monuments, beauty, health.

In fact, if you think about, one hundred years from now everyone who is currently living on this earth will be dead (yes, there may be breakthroughs in medicine, cryogenics, etc. but will you be able to afford them?).

Do you remember that moment when you were finally forced to acknowledge your own mortality – the sudden chest pain, the suspicious test results, the near collision or the loss of a dear one? When we deeply realize that our time here is limited, our busy mind stops and we are left facing … what?

Should we spend whatever time we have left pursing money, fame, comfort and the other common hallmarks of success? Or, is it better to be ‘spiritual’ and forego what life offers and pursue the more intangible rewards like bliss, enlightenment, peace? Or, is the very act of pursuing anything keeping us from really being alive?

What would you do if you knew you would die in six months? What would you do if you knew you would live forever? Is it the same – or different?