The Reaper Man
When I was younger, I had a deep set fascination and perhaps even romance with the idea and personification of death. It did not help that I had such wonderful authors as Piers Anthony (On a Pale Horse) or Terry Pratchett (Mort, Reaper Man, etc.) to fuel my lonley fantastical desires.
As I have grown, I have become more aware of that fact that I do not wish for an eternity of silence, darkness, and my own thought, as I had so deerly pondered and imagined in early days.
I also realize that I find the idea of a personified death reather silly. Still cool, though, very cool. If you ever want to send me Grim Reaper-esque stuff, I’m always taking.
However, death has been a constant topic of mine over the last couple of weeks as another trip into Isaac’s study of religion has intensified. A lot of people, if not all people, fear death. And, I suppose rightly so.
In talking with a newly made good friend of mine, she was inquiring about some of my beliefs as an atheist. And she made the comment unsual, which is one of the reasons I so enjoy talking with her, that she thought atheists would be less likely to commit suicide.
See. I said unsual. I hope this is the case, but from my experiences, it is not. The average person I speak with believes (or professes the belief) that atheists cannot and do not appreciate life, and with a stark future staring ahead of them, suicide is much easier.
Aside from the fact that atheism is not a belief system (and to try to stereotype as such is wrong), I fit firmly with my friend’s perception better. If you think that you are going to die, a death that is permanent and unfulfilling, life means that much more. And trying to leave it is a horrid, horrid thought.
I can proudly say that I do not want to die. I want to live every single day, as happy as I can be. I embrace every facet of the beauty and fruit of reality.. because who knows when I will be without it?
Does the stark idea of my belief in death scare me? Absolutely. Does it make me less of a person, unhappy, or scared to live? No one bit. There are some nights when I think about it, and it makes me sad. Those nights, it would be good to have someone to hold on to, but my lonely bed is as empty as ever.
But, at least I’m alive to know that it is empty.
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