Higher Self: Say you woke up one morning and realised that your deathday had dawned--that you were going to die within 24 hours--what would you want to say, and to whom, before moving on to the next life? Homunculus: Mmm! Interesting… lemme think about that for a minute… Higher Self: Come on, get a move on, you've got 24 hours before you die, remember. Homunculus: Well, it would depend I suppose on whether I was up to writing a 20 page philosophical treatise, or a short but instructive story, or a quick but poignant haiku, or a pithy and incredibly meaningful aphorism. Higher Self: Jeez! You are a right royal pain in the proverbial. Just do it, OK. Nike, I mean nicely. You are gonna die soon, what do you want to say, and to whom? Homunculus: OK, what I want to say is… the older you get, the more you understand how little you understand, and that realisation itself helps you understand more and more, sorry, I mean less and less… Higher Self: Not bad for a patzer… paradoxical, I like that… Homunculus: Here's some more, apologies to the fab four: there's nowhere you can be that isn't where you choose to be. There's nothing that you've done that isn't what you should have done. Higher Self: That's a bit derivative, bordering on banale. Homunculus: Well you're the right one to talk. You keep trying to convince me that everything has already been done. As to whether that is banale, I haven't made up my mind yet. Higher Self: You've made your mind, now think in it. Homunculus: Are we not losing sight of the original purpose of this interaction? Higher Self: If you think you are losing sight of the original purpose, and that bothers you, then do, have, be something else. Homunculus: OK, I get the picture. I grok it in fullness. So, back to the original purpose. I'm about to die. What do I want to say and to whom? I would say to my firstborn daughter, with whom I've been estranged since the day she left home, "I love you. Much more than I have ever managed to convey to you. And I am truly sorry and full of regret that I failed to tell you how much I love you and how proud I am of you. I see you. I know you. I remember you from before we both were born. And I know you will struggle. You will be unhappy. You will be insane with grief about the absence of that which you can never have. But permit me to say, that your trials are actually joys, and you will find your meaning, and I'm sorry I couldn't help you, but I think that ultimately no-one can help anyone else, because there is no-one else, we are all one. As the Buddhist said to the hotdog vendor "make me one with everything"." Higher Self: Why don't you say those things to her now? Homunculus: I don't know. I suppose I really am a little man. Higher Self: Are you done? Is there anything else you want to say to your firstborn daughter, or to anyone else, before you die? Homunculus: Yes, I think I would like to say to my second-born daughter: "I've been cold, distant, detached, unapproachable. I apologise for that. You don't know this because I've never told you: I love you and admire you very much. I would have liked to know you better, because you are a fascinating person, with many great gifts. You are making the same mistakes I made as a young person. But you won't hear me when I try to tell you that. So I guess you must continue making those mistakes. But don't give up on life. The only sin is suicide. In fact, that's not a sin either. There really is no sin, original or otherwise. Love your mother and sister, and look after them, for me. They need your groundedness. Goodbye my darling." Goodbye my loved ones. Goodbye cruel world (just kidding--there's no such thing as cruelty). Copyright © S R Schwarz 2007. All rights reserved.
