"Sheep go to Heaven. Goats go to Hell"

I need to start out by reminding everyone that this blog is just simply a medium for me to try to balance and organize my thoughts. I am not pushing, I am not getting up on a soap-box, I am simply trying to organize. I make no promises that at the end of my posts I will have actually come to any "conclusions", in fact I may just talk myself around in circles and wind up even more confused. Read it if you will, but remember that I am writing for myself, not necessarily for you.

Death is a weird thing.

Some believe that when you die you have to go through St. Pete--the bouncer of Heaven--to see if your deeds as a mortal were worthy enough to get your soul through the Pearly Gates. If you don't pass St. Pete's test, your soul gets the elevator shaft down to a fiery pit to go join Satan and all the other serial-killers. I can't accept that we are living our lives in order to appease a "bouncer". Shouldn't we be living towards the betterment of humanity for our own intrinsic rewards; because we want to see our community and our surroundings thrive? I can't live my life only doing good things hoping to get a reward on the flip side. I live my life doing good things because I choose to.

I don't believe in Heaven or Hell.

So what then though? What is the alternative? When my Grandma was dying she was so excited to die so that she could see my uncle and my Grandpa. She knew that she would be reunited on the 'other side' with them. Did she though? I would like to think that she reverted back to her hot 30 year-old-self and is somewhere drinking dirty martinis with them, but I have no idea. None of us do.

I also would like to think that Grandma and Grandpa are somewhere lookin' out for my dumb self, cause every now and then I will catch myself after a sharp turn in the car, or a bad skiing wipe-out thinking "woo-thanks guys!" This one I know can't possibly be true.

I don't believe in Guardian Angels, but I still send empty 'thank yous'.

A hopeless part of me wants to believe that after we die, our souls do something. Maybe convert into an energetic form. I wouldn't go as far as saying that when I die, I will become a bird, or anything like that. But I think it would be cool to believe that maybe my energy harbors at the lake, or in a forest. You know when are hiking along, or for others, walking along shopping--whatever your hobby is--and you feel the overwhelming desire to smile? I want to be that smile when I die.

No one knows what happens when you die. It is the greatest unknown. It is why people cling to religion.

I am not afraid to die.

Not even a little bit.

I accepted long ago that when we die, most likely nothing will happen. No Heaven. No Hell. No energy. It will just be a black void, a black void that we wont even be able to comprehend. We will just die.

It is why I don't think twice about a lot of things that I do, I want to experience everything before I go.

The only thing that pulls at me when it comes to death, and gets me choked up beyond reason, is thinking about the ripple effects of my death. It is why to me, suicide is damn near unforgivable. I am not scared to die per say, but I do have to think about the other people in my life, like my parents, and my siblings--well, my family as a whole. I can't leave them behind. Jared and I had a debate a few weeks back about whether you would prefer to unexpectedly die, or know that you were dying. He chose the former, I chose the latter. Knowing that your end is coming gives you a chance to get your ducks in a row before you go, and gives you the opportunity to say goodbye to those that you love. It provides you that time of transition, where as an unexpected death leaves your family feeling blind sided and blasted.

I am not scared of dying, but I am scared of leaving others behind.