When we teach our children about death, we try to be gentle. We may tell them that the deceased is sleeping, or that they went to heaven. Yet what do we teach ourselves about it? That death is irreversible. That death is final.
Mainly, perhaps, we communicate our fears surrounding it, for the fear of our ending is the ultimate fear. Many of our other fears are the fear of death dressed up as something else. The psychiatrist, Irvin Yalom, wrote that though death destroys us, the idea of death saves us. Knowing that I shall die, that I’ll lose everything I’ve earned and accomplished and everyone I know and love, how do I choose to live today? Being human, with time still left, I can choose. The Buddhists believe that being human gives us the unique opportunity to change our karma, or, if you will, our destiny. This day is the universe’s gift to me. What I do with the 24 hours of life I’ll exchange for this day is my gift back to the universe. It’s my gift to myself.
Death is simply limited time. This forces us to choose, for we can have almost anything, but within the span between birth and death, not everything. And by every choice made, we negate every other choice we could have made. And so, as the day of our death draw near, our choices narrow. This seems at first a cruel twist, yet in the final analysis it ends up our greatest gift. We show ourselves and others what we treasure. Through the actions we take between our birthday and our death day, we shout out what’s really important to us, not what we say is. The constraints of time offer us our chance to choose. Death is, therefore, a great gift. For through its ultimate arrival at the finish line of our lives, we decide what we value. And what we value we pay the price for in our very lives; with our moments, our hours, our days and years; with our human capacity to act boldly. We are children in a playground with recess about to run out. A bell will be rung, and we’ll be called in. Yet we decide what games we play, not death itself.
Though death seems to come from the inevitable expiration date we call death, its call that our lives are nearing their ends really allows us to choose more powerfully, to act out what we value. In this, it is a great friend. Time is like money, except you can’t store it. You can’t save it. You have to spend the same amount of it each day. How will you spend today? What will you buy with this day?
Time is a book and on its page you write. The page has been written up through the day called yesterday, and can be rewritten no more. We can’t edit what’s gone before in the hope for a better past. All we can do is write the story from this page forward, and make any changes choice and time have left us.
© 2025 by Michael C. Just
Mike’s novel, The Dirt: The Journey of a Mystic Cowboy, is available in softcover or eBook formats through Amazon.
You can purchase the book through this website. Or go straight to amazon at https://www.amazon.com/s?k=the+dirt+journey+of+a+mystic+cowboy&crid=1S40Q4BXSUWJ6&sprefix=the+dirt%3A+journey+of+a+m%2Caps%2C180&ref=nb_sb_ss_i_1_23
Mike’s other titles, including The Crippy, The Mind Altar, and Canyon Calls, are available through this website or through Amazon at https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B002
Four of his short stories have recently been published online:
Lies, Ltd. has been published by The Mystery Tribune @ Lies, Ltd.: Literary Short Fiction by Michael C. Just (mysterytribune.com)
The Obligate Carnivore has been published by the Scarlet Leaf Review @ Category: MICHAEL JUST – SCARLET LEAF REVIEW
I See You, Too has been published by the 96th of October @ I See You, Too – 96th of October
Offload, a short story about a man who can heal any disease, is now live and can be read at The Worlds Within at Offload – The Worlds Within