the disappearing presence

In yesterday’s blog at Speaking from the Heart, Laurie talked about death just being another step along the continuum of our existence. Intellectually, most people know that they will die. Emotionally, we wreck ourselves out of fear of dying, and we are programmed to avoid death as long as possible. The problem is that when we live out of fear of dying, we don’t really live. When we live out of knowing we will die, life takes on all new meaning.

So, I pondered this dilemma as I am apt to do on a Sunday when life is good and pleasant and I kept asking myself: what do I want to take with me in the ethereal energy that will leave this body? In these 50-odd years, I have created all sorts of energies and ways of being that I define as “me.” Some of them are pretty nifty: perseverance, generosity, understanding, and this quirky sense of blending the properties of the physical world.

For example, Laurie mentioned just a few of the thousands of ways to die like accidents, heart attacks, and being eaten by sharks (okay, she didn’t mention that last one).

Me . . . I think I would like to die of evaporation. Yep. I just want to go up in a blaze of vapor and disappear. Forget the body leftover, all that funeral stuff, people dribbling past the casket saying “she looks SO natural!”


I want people saying “where the heck did she go?”

I want to be the mystery woman. I am not at all mysterious in life. I am just kind of out there with my tongue tripping over my words, bumping into walls, taking life a bit too seriously, and probably taking on more than my fair share of responsibility.

I seek what I am not, though. I travel through my days and nights searching out this mystery of life, finding my own truths, and connecting with my true presence. The biggest mystery, of course, is where will I go and what will I be when I die? I’ve come to a truth for myself that I will take with me all that I have become. We all came to this earth with unlimited potentialities of defining the energy that we describe as “self.”

I just have to decide what self I want to live with forever.

©2010 by Barbara L. Kass

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9 Responses to “the disappearing presence”

  1. holessence Says:

    Me too, me too — I want to die of evaporation! What a way to go. Yesterday on our 41.45 mile ride I thought we would do just that — poof! And then this morning we both remarked that we slept like we were dead.

    I love when you said, “I’ve come to a truth for myself that I will take with me all that I have become.”

    • Barbara Kass Says:

      Hi, Laurie — I thought about you yesterday on your bike ride. It is a lot more work than people realize and you should be patting yourself on the back for doing it. I thought your blog the other day was a real eye-opener. Who exactly do I want to live with forever? That’s the presence that I seek.

  2. jeffstroud Says:

    I like your thoughts here! Very wish and open!
    I think the process of living and dying is to make sure that we Live first! Live fully as we can, authentic as we can, knowing that we have given Life and living our utmost attention.

    I am Love, Jeff

    • Barbara Kass Says:

      I know, Jeff! So many people are worried about dying, avoiding death like the plague (how’s that for a play on words?), and they keep forgetting to live! I think the word “authentic” is a good way to describe really living.

  3. ButterfliesGalore-Kimberly Grady Says:

    Thanks for the thought provolking blog, especially when there are those that are afriad of dying and also those that can’t die soon enough.

    I thought of this today, in the wake of attending my 30th class reunion last weekend. My husband mentioned that there were a lot of classmates that looked 20 years older than they were. He also was concerned that aour class had already lost 21 classmates.

    Fact is we are dying and being reborn all the time jduring out life, or at least that is biologists tell us about our cells.

    Laurie once asked me what I would like to have inscribed on my grave marker. This took me very much by surprise, as I had never thought about it much before. I would hope that I am remebered as a good daughter, wife, mother, and friend……hopefully remembered as a kind, loving, caring individual that wanted to help as much as she could without any return.

    Lots to think about……


    • Barbara Kass Says:

      Hi, Kim — it is true that our bodies have replaced all of our cells every seven years; fortunately, there is cell memory which means our new cells are already born knowing everything they need to know. It is interesting that you want to be remembered as who you are to other people and that you cared without wanting anything in return. My question to you would be: are you depriving people of their desire to be someone for you and give you what you give others? You have as much right (and need) to receive in life as anyone else.

  4. ButterfliesGalore-Kimberly Grady Says:

    Deprive myself??

    Well I have always been selfish, I feel, in my way of self gratification and I want now syndrome…so I have a hard time seeing this.

    I am slowly becoming this, in allowing others to take the ball and run with it…


  5. sandiwhite Says:

    Hi, Barbara, I have looked death square in the eye at least twice, once not so long ago, and the very odd thing is, no, I won’t go willingly. I am not afraid of death, I’ve had an out-of-the-body experience that cured me of that, I just don’t want to leave unwritten pages in My Book Of Life. Then there’s the fact that getting dead is usually a most unpleasant sensation, unless of course you’re bleeding to death or the preferred method, dying in your sleep. I would be glad to go by evaporation as long as it doesn’t hurt. I loved this post, it is a very cheerful view of the inevitable.

    • Barbara Kass Says:

      Hi, Sandi — my sense is that you are nowhere finished with this life. Death is always guaranteed. Life is not. It is here now and we should take it, hold it, and squeeze every last bit of living from it. Your near-death experiences I think make you more likely to live fully and completely because you know you continue forever.

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