A little death


I had a strange dream last night. I was in some group setting, a day was passing normally and I found out from my doctor that I only had that day to live, that I would die by morning. A lot of the rest of the dream was very mundane, interacting with people but not letting on that I was going to die. At the same time, I kept checking myself for any sign that I was about to die. I kept concentrating on what the sensations were in my body, thinking here and there that I was about to detect an oncoming heart failure or stopping of breath. And the more I searched within myself, the more elusive the feeling of passing or death became. Time kept passing and I felt the doctor had to have been correct in his prognosis, and yet I wasn’t dying. I realized that I was spending a lot of time held in this strange moment of the anticipation of death. I wasn’t anxious or afraid, but neither was I completely calm or centered. As I waited (and waited) for Godot, I eventually woke up.