No, I don’t think it’s death. I think probably the act of dying must be supremely (as it certainly is “ultimately”) pleasurable. It is the consummation of a drive, after all, so when it finally is unmistakably imminent, it must be like an orgasm, like a sneeze.. let’s face it, a sneeze can be almost unbearably pleasurable…reminds me of that joke about the pepper..no, not NOW, Hypatia!
If the person dying is still him or her-self, (which may not be the case when you’ve suffered extremely painful traumatic injury or when you’re totally doped up—And no, I have never seen violent death in battle, so please ST, don’t reprove my musings as presumptuous ) I think death will arrive in the guise of something we’ve always kinda hoped for. Henry James is reputed to have said, ”Here it is at last: the distinguished Thing!” Of course he wasn’t writing it down, but you can just HEAR that capital T. That’s so Henry! He died totally inhabiting his self, or at least the persona we know.
People in plummeting planes uniformly report a feeling of tremendous elation: this is IT, no turning back now! ( Nobody ever asks, or at least nobody reports, how they feel at the instant where the decline reverses and the pilot announces that after all, they’re gonna be fine..)
I’ve also read that the last 5/seconds of life are “subjectively eternal”. Obviously we won’t be forming a memory of it, once the brain ceases to function, so….what does that mean? How would we perceive “eternity” afterwards? Does it just mean that since these seconds (why 5?) are the last thing we will ever “know”, we somehow experience ‘em on an endless loop? If so, I hope I’m conscious during what has to be any organism’s peak experience.
But about fear…once it’s too late to die young, once the imminence of death no longer makes you feel cheated out of what might have been?
It’s the anxiety, no, the knowledge, that, tarrying in death’s anteroom of old age, you WILL lose EVERYTHING.
Oh, be afraid, be VERY afraid! I cannot choose but fear. What remains?
Will there be any pleasure in returning to a state of infantile dependence, infantile disinhibition? “I” “think” : no.
There is only one possible, final benison left to anticipate for us still in the mortal coil: and it is the opposite of the usual platitude: that we be aware during the final sensual pleasure of release, of surrender, the irreversible perfect oblation.
ST UnWoked & UnVaxxed! 
…and I just realized today, Feb 21, is the date of death of my best friend. Oh, god, seven years. I’ve often posted some elegiac poem about him, about friendship, on this date on both Rs. Maybe I was thinking of that as I fell asleep; I did take note of it yesterday.
Only here could I post something distinctly NON-elegiac:
Before, or as, he died (at home, in the middle of the night) he, like, flipped violently outta bed! His wife tried to wake him to get him back on the mattress, but no dice.
He was someone, like me, given to concentrating on physical pleasures.
I hope, maybe, , this final physical spasm was a supreme instance of such!
And that thought is (almost) the first comfort I have had in seven years.
LikeLiked by 3 people
Thanks so much, Hyp! HUGS!
For believers – in any and every tradition – the joy of anticipating heading Home must override the fear of leaving the familiar behind. I agree with the exclusions you site, too, btw….More HUGS!
LikeLiked by 2 people
…don’t reprove my musings as presumptuous)
Nevah!
LikeLiked by 1 person
No, I know: you are WAY too gallant to do so😍! I just meant I’m sure you’ve seen death up close and personal much more than I have. But death in battle is kind of…in defiance of nature; the gradual progress toward it, to which we all are born, is in compliance with nature.
LikeLiked by 2 people
I like it when you call me gallant. Please go on, and on…
LikeLike
I liked it a lot when I read it the first time. I liked it even more after looking up the word: Oblation.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Darling Nanda, your comment goes beyond my musing (And I do understand and reverence your faith). I wasn’t thinking, in this piece, beyond the physicality of death. I was raised in fear of eternal torment and its corollary, eternal bliss, and I can’t escape that. I just wasn’t dealing with it this morning.
“Heading Home”…at every funeral where I’ve planned to say something, I am tempted to talk about how the Bible doesn’t use the word “Home” for eternity, except in the Preacher’s mordantly witty pun, “Man has gone to his long home”.
To me “home” is an earthly word. I always wanna stand up during the eulogy and yell “He WAS home! And now, I have NO idea WHERE the f he is—and neither do YOU!” But anyone else who speaks will undoubtedly make “going home” the centerpiece of his or her encomium, and the other mourners seem to find I comforting, so no, I would never do this. I hope. 🤐
Of course,if there IS an eternal, conscious afterlife,(and I know you will say,”There is!”) then physical death and its sensations hardly matter.
But if THIS existence is all we will ever be conscious of, then the process of decline and eventual cessation looms large. The decline will not be fun. Intimations of it, innocuous though they have blessedly been to date, are not fun. But maybe the final physical act itself, the last active verb we will ever commit: “she died.”—will be in every sense a blast. Like everyone else. I have no clue.
LikeLiked by 3 people
Dearest Hyp: My life has been lived in the context of physical dependency, from the start; I’ve experienced this, and continue to, so that’s not quite what comes to the fore for me…What *does* is the example of my Dad’s loving reassurance to my next-eldest sister: “Everything’s gonna be alright.” and my Mom’s blowing me goodbye kisses, after I’d bade her farewell over the ‘phone. The act itself, hopefully, will be an aware “birthing” into Home: relationships I sorely miss and physical freedom I’ve only dreamed of, and knowing as I am known.
If, perchance it’s not, then, the endorphins we produce – and the stardust of which we’re truly made – are gonna make for a doozy of a fireworks display at the last, for sure. (I subscribe to Pascal’s Wager, don’tcha know.)
Again, dear friend, peace – and felt love – be yours this day….
LikeLiked by 2 people
Nanda,you are our precious Cara Deo. I hope nothing I wrote has been insensitive to your situation, specifically the physical dependence you mention.
I didn’t forget about you, I never do, no one could!
But as you know, each person can only look out at the world through her own myopic eyes .
I don’t know why I think of these Yeats lines:
“I gave what other women gave
That stepped out of their clothes,
But when this soul, its body off
Naked to naked goes,
He it has found shall find therein
What none other knows,
And give his own, and take his own,
And rule in his own right—
There’s not a bird of day that dare
Extinguish that delight!
LikeLiked by 3 people
Thank you, sweet friend…..Lovely….That fireworks moment will be something to anticipate….Returning to our original dependence is also a chance for others to be compassionate toward us….A lot to think and feel about…..
LikeLiked by 2 people
I’m very clear about what I am afraid of and that is suffering through a painful and miserable death. A close family friend took chemo to extend her life five years and spent that time in bed, in pain, in agony. My father went through a similar experience.
My husband and I both agree on this: If we are unable to live life OUR way, we just won’t take the treatment which is always worse than the disease. If I had 5 months to live, I wouldn’t spend it throwing up in a chemo center; I’d be on a plane to somewhere I’d always wanted to visit.
The desire to live is far less powerful than to live well.
LikeLiked by 3 people
I don’t know…We really only have ONE desire, some Greek sage wrote: to live! Until the time comes, and I think it does, when that sole desire becomes: to die.
I’m told by my BMD that sometimes people receive a limited prognosis, like: six months to live, with relief and joy, They didn’t think they’d last that long.
To depart life in vigor is both the worst and the best thing we can hope for.
LikeLiked by 3 people
Another observation I failed to include in this comment:
When people insist on prolonging hopeless situations, they aren’t thinking about their families and friends who go through hell and back. When my father died, many people tried to console me but I responded that the death of my father was a relief and I had already mourned the loss of his life months before he died. I think what breaks my heart the most is that I’ll never remember him as the vibrant, aggressive, interesting and well-read person that he was because of those dreadful last six months.
I’ve come to learn that the process of dying is far worse than death itself. And I do apologize for this morbid post, but I was forced to address issues I had tried to ignore. Not a bad thing.
LikeLiked by 3 people
ET you’re saying exactly what I was saying. Death itself may be a blast! But the longer we live the more we rightly fear the prelude to it. I went through the same thing with my father. It shakes one’s foundation! To see such a paragon of knowledge and vigor brought low. I have gotten mine back, I have the memories of him I choose, and yet— nothing can prevent consciousness of the increasing remoteness of those events and qualities.
LikeLiked by 4 people
We really only have ONE desire, some Greek sage wrote: to live!
Indeed we do; the definition of “living” does vary wildly between people however.
On a lighter note, my favorite Sinatra song will always be “My Way.”
LikeLiked by 3 people
Thank you for a great post, Hypatia, and Liz, I totally agree with you: I also plan to refuse medical care if the situation is hopeless or probably hopeless. I am 1000% pro-life and against euthanasia, but foregoing medical care, especially when the end is obviously near, is not euthanasia. I read somewhere that doctors, knowing what they know, are more likely to refuse medical treatment at the end; they just enjoy the time they have left. If I am ever in that situation, I plan to follow their example.
My husband had a buddy that he spent a great deal of time playing pool with in the last year or two of what turned out to be both their lives. At the time, Robin appeared at least to be the picture of health (Robin died very very suddenly); his pool buddy Bob was dying of cancer, but for whatever reason he wasn’t being treated for it, except for pain management. He spent his time bringing joy and comfort to others: he installed a new kitchen for his girlfriend, he hung out with his friends, and he played pool with Robin several times a week. Shortly before he met Bob, Robin’s best friend had been killed in a car accident: it would be impossible to overstate what a comfort Bob’s friendship was, and his final days were not without suffering: there were days when he was in so much pain he couldn’t do anything, but I am so grateful that he hung around a little longer, and so grateful that I was privileged to know him.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Ladies, I do concur with the consternation of watching a parent relinquish health and endure pain; I encountered it, during her 8 months of illness, and the love that shown through it. Amazing to me….
LikeLiked by 2 people
If you’re up to it Nanda, I’m sure we’d like to hear your story. Understand though if you are not.
LikeLiked by 2 people
I think I find myself yet again different from most people because I wrestled with and finally embraced death when I was still young. Living one’s life in ‘the now’ with not too much concern for when or how it all ends is the best – no?
LikeLiked by 2 people
My husband would agree with you wholeheartedly which is why I fear the two of you meeting one another. 🙂
I’m a lot like my father; cautious, conservative, slightly wary now that I actually am an adult and have things to protect but I am working on it. I just bought a whole bunch of additional jewelry that I shouldn’t have because I just felt like it. My libertine husband who is always encouraging me to “live a little” looked at the bill and was shocked.
Hahaha! You asked for it!
LikeLiked by 2 people
Right with you, ST! No one gets out of this life alive; but. St. Irenaeus of Lyons said: “The glory of God is a man (used generically) fully alive.” So, I guess the solution to the conundrum is to live every day like you mean it, yes? As usual, his wise and graciously Unleashedness! puts the emphasis where it truly belongs.
LikeLiked by 2 people
That is the beau idéal of the soldier. That is for showing us it’s actually real, Simon!
LikeLiked by 2 people