You Being

Do you envision your own ending -- well, after the end really -- the funeral, memorial, life celebration, but maybe nobody coming, nothing to show for all that former living, The End ?

What's it to you?  You being dead and all.  

Some profess not to believe in final judgment, yet still seem stuck with that accounting-at-the-end mindset.  Or at least the conviction that it actually matters how much stuff one DOES before one dies.  As if maybe one gets to store all those memory files of fun times and worthy accomplishments up in the cloud --  a fluffy, afterlife cloud bank.

Are you the type who believes that the player with the most (of anything) at the end, wins?  The urge persisting, to cram, cram for finals -- bucket lists and all.  Live! Live life to the fullest, live large! Zip-lining and mountain climbing and partying and piling up the dough, because, after all, the end is near. Especially if you only go around once.

Iffy though.  So maybe it's the return potential that propels?  Get it right, or do it over, maybe in more downtrodden form, ever clueless, perchance a cockroach, only to enter a roach motel, where once you check in you don't check out -- just over and over, never reaching the source. Perpetual angst; endless bucket lists.

And what of legacy -- proof that your living mattered, you made a difference, you were loved and valued and (subsequently) missed.  When your lifted-up spirit scans back over this material world, floating, as it were, from on high, will it feel, alas, your great and weighty failure?  

Or will Essence ... envelop you.  Welcome you home, not with kisses and hugs, but being.  Being, yes, ahhhh yes, there you are.  Because.  You are.

That was then.  This is now.