Flickering

I have a light, that when I enter the bathroom, and turn it on, flickers. I think that something similar is happening with me. I am flickering.  My flame has grown inconsistent. I am only sometimes what I have been. I’m still bright, but only occasionally. I’m not sure, I can always be bright when I want to be. Lately, I’ve begun flickering.

This is a new phenomenon for me. Oh sure, I’ve had my bad days. Those happen occasionally, but more rarely, than I am now flickering. I believe this is a sign of what is coming. I’m nearing my pull date.

Getting near the end, is the kind of near-death experience (NDE), that almost no one wants to talk about. I’m not sure why. I’ve been in this terrain before.  My stroke held me near death for a long time. It has been the most provocative learning experience of my life. Ah, but then, I didn’t know if I was going to die, this time, I’m more sure. I’m on my way out.

I’m OK with it. Not too afraid now. I’ve had a long time to reckon with death, I’ve come around to realizing that I have been dying all along. Over the years, I’ve given up so much. Death has been a constant companion. In fact, Death has made my life what it is — a miracle way beyond me. So, I kind of wait, with bated curiosity.

What I find difficult about it, is that we seldom talk about it. I don’t mean the conversations about the end, they are starting to happen now, in Cafe’s, and other public spaces, but the conversations I look forward to, are the ones about how Death changes Life. Death has been a friend, I’ve gotten to know.

It’s causing me to flicker now. I trust it, but I don’t know how best to respond to this form of reduction. I’d like to be with some others engaged in this part of living/dying. I wonder, what does flickering offer? I know I am moved to hold my loved ones more thoroughly. The world is more enchanting too, but is there something I’m missing? Perhaps, somebody else sees some other aspects of the light.

Flickering is sort of impolite. Our culture still admires the stiff denial of death. So, maybe that’s why the conversation is so rare, but from my viewpoint dying is as natural as living.

I’m flickering now. My days are numbered. The prelude is well underway. I am more alive than I have ever been, because the end is nearing. I am not consistently able to express it, but my happiness and awe are growing. I think I may be brighter when I am bright, and darker when I am dark. Both forms of light are accompanying me home.

I live now, without later being assured. It is tenuous, a moment by flickering moment proposition. I haven’t a leg to stand on. The world is a strange wisp, a dream that seems to be dreaming up the next bend in the river. Letting go isn’t totally in my hands now, but strangely I have to keep doing it anyway. That’s part of the nature of flickering.