I turned 66 last November. After
a shipwreck of a life, I am cast up
on the shore of old age.
My wife is a vicarious hypochondriac; she imagines I'm sick.
All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players: they have their exits and their entrances; and one man in his time plays many parts, his acts being seven ages.
Seeing Death in a Positive Light
(Revised from March 2015)
By Henry Makow Ph.D
After a friend died prematurely last year, my wife insisted I get an electrocardiogram (EKG.)
My wife is a vicarious hypochondriac; she imagines I'm sick.
Her autobiography would be called, "The Way of the Worrier." She listens to "Doctor Radio." The Canadian Diabetes Association is on her Twitter feed.
I am psychosomatic. This is a bad combination.
After the EKG, I felt slight aches in the heart area for over a week. Like most people, I am naturally suited to a life of ease. Always in excellent health, any physical discomfort alarms me.
In a bake shop, I felt the aches and had to sit down. A kindly young woman asked me if I was alright. I felt like an old codger, which I guess I am becoming, even though my self-image is still a precocious young man.
Thanks to my wife, I thought I was going to die. I even made a Will, (because my friend stupidly failed to make one.) I started to contemplate death. (BTW, the psychosomatic period ended. I am completely fine now! Thank God. Health is the only thing we can't replace.)
When we are young, old age and death are far away concerns. We are too busy forging our way. We behave as though we're going to live forever.
As we pass 65, we notice that people our age are dying! I check obituaries to see how long each person lived and measure off how much time i might have left.
The Wheel of Time has moved like the changing seasons. The celebrities I admired are silent or gone. The starlets I adored are shrivelled and old. I watch old movies and think- "all these people are dead!" We are surrounded by ghosts: all the people who came before us.
I feel nostalgic. Every generation thinks the world is becoming a worse place. This is because it is. (Civilization is in severe decline, for the reasons I discuss on this site.)
Gradually my life is taking a retrospective slant. But it's not necessarily bad. Instead of acting like I will live forever, I am starting to see life as it really is, ephemeral, i.e. temporary and fleeting.
I am going to die. We all are.
Seeing life as ephemeral helps me live in the moment. It helps me to not take things so seriously. It makes me humble. I also have more compassion for my fellow human beings. I imagine their last moments. We all share a common condition. We didn't ask to be born. We try to make sense of it, make the most of it, despite obstacles put in our path by the satanic cult that controls society.
THE BRIGHT SIDE OF DEATH
During the week of my "heart ache," I tried to come to terms with Death:
"We" are a Divine Spark housed in the body of an ape. That ape has a certain lifespan. When it ends, "we" disappear. But who's to say that's a bad thing?
We measure everything in terms of our material dimension. But the material dimension is holding us back. The collective obsession with money, sex and creature comforts enchains the soul. Perhaps death is liberation. Perhaps the real party is happening somewhere else and our "life" is a pale imitation of the real thing.
If we went to a popular restaurant, we wouldn't dream of keeping our table forever. We would enjoy our dinner and leave. This way someone else can do the same thing.
The same applies to life. We take up space. We take up jobs, houses, food. We take up psychological space too. We demand respect, admiration, love. Clap. Clap. Clap.
You get the picture. We must vacate so new souls in new bodies can manifest themselves. This is how life renews itself. We need to identify with the process rather than our personal existence.
Imagine if no one aged and died! We'd be rubbing shoulders with Genghis Khan's soldiers! We'd have to listen to Sonny and Cher, and Madonna forever. Nixon and LBJ would keep running for President. After our turn, we must leave the stage.
We're always harping about equality. Aging and death are the only truly equal things in life. No matter how rich or poor, smart or stupid, we all age at the same rate and die. It's true some live longer, but the result is still the same.
This is particularly gratifying when I think of the Illuminati. They cannot save themselves. These bus are going to die and no matter what the media says about how wonderful they were, we'll be cheering. Their deaths will be a blessing. You know whom I am thinking of.
Death is nature's way of cleansing mankind and making a fresh start.
left, Claus Von Stauffenberg placed bomb in conference bunker.)
We do cling to life tenaciously. Death makes cowards of us all. For example, many intelligent Germans recognized that Hitler would bring Germany to ruin and kill millions, yet not one was willing to sacrifice his own life to dispatch the miscreant with a bullet. So instead, when the bomb failed to do the job, hundreds of righteous conspirators died on meat hooks or by firing squads.
If we realized that we're going to die anyway, perhaps we wouldn't cling to life. We might show more courage. The man who dispatched Hitler would have achieved immortality.
Finally, everyone has a mission. I am doing what I always felt destined to do: write the truth. Ultimately, the best preparation for death is the knowledge that we fulfilled God's purpose for us. We can meet our Maker with our head held high.
First Comment by Tony B:
For me life is a little deeper.
As a young man with three young sons, I moved us to Laguna Beach, CA on the behest of "Mady" de Shismareff so that we could more easily work together as the "California League of Christian Parents," our tiny media outlet, since this was her home.
One Sunday a very beautiful young woman I had known before moving came to visit. I took her, my sons and the family dog on a drive over Laguna Beach's back trails to show her the beauty of the place. But the trail suddenly ended as a washout with about a 200 foot drop and we were all out in the air when I spotted the trail continuation to the right on what was left of that hill. The girl was screaming and had thrown herself on me but, in this instant that took much less time than reading these words, I threw her off and automatically crammed the wheel to the right. That International Scout turned 90 degrees in midair and softly landed on the continued trail.
I was stunned and not sure of this apparent reality but the girl proved it to be true because she began screaming at me, calling me the devil, etc., all the way home. She immediately left to never come back.
Although I could call this nothing but a miracle, which I had more or less dismissed up to that time, I still managed in a short time to put it out of my mind. Probably out of fear, I'm not sure.
But in my latter years I realize I was given an extension on earth for some reason. Or perhaps one or more of my sons or even the girl were given that extension for a reason and I was just there as the vehicle. Whatever its purpose, this event was outside the laws of physics as we understand them and into the realm of the supernatural. Believe me, such an experience changes how one looks upon life. It becomes impossible to dismiss the invisible supernatural world as someone's fantasy. Suddenly the tenets of true Christianity become obviously real, absolutely logical, much more so than one totally immersed in materialism wants to admit.
But how do you refute such a thing? It is God yelling into your ear, "I am real." Suddenly you understand that the material world we see and touch is the illusion, the real world is the invisible one we know only by faith before our worldly death.
As my now traditional Catholic twins remind me, this story is not so rare, miracles happen constantly, today as well as in the past, they are just officially ignored in the materialistic, especially English speaking, Protestant world.