The Final Questions?
The other day, while lying on a bed getting an acupuncture treatment, an interesting experience happened to me. Without any obvious prompting, I began to imagine what dying must be like. Not death, but dying—the final moments.
What happened was a sense of fading attachment to the concerns that constitute my life. Everything that is day-to-day just lost its significance. It was very clear that there was no reason for things, or even relations, to have significance any longer, and I didn’t mind that they wouldn’t. The closest word I can give to the experience was “dissolving.” If I had to say what I was dissolving into, I would say peace and stillness.
In the midst of this dissolving, two questions showed up (really, two aspects of the same question), both of which seemed extraordinarily important:
• Did I live an honorable life?
• Did I contribute to others?
My life came down to these two questions. Nothing else. Not accomplishment, money, spiritual attainment, or anything else. Just these two questions.
The experience left me very clear about what I want to be able to answer in the end.