I was asked by someone recently that if I was able to know the exact time I would die, would I want to know? Now, I know a lot of people hear the same question quite often. It seems to be a major philosophical question. Apparently an actual survey was done, and out of the people questioned, approximately 30% said they'd want to know. I have to be honest. I'd want to be in that other 70%.
Would you really want to know when you're going to die? Think about it for a minute. Not knowing if and when we're going to die is what makes our lives worth living. We go skydiving because of the thrill of rushing down towards the pavement at 10 meters per second per second, now knowing if our chute will open or not, makes our heart race faster and faster and makes the adrenaline pump through our veins. We enjoy that fillet and savor the taste because we don't know if we'll ever have the chance to taste it again.
I feel sorry for those people who get told they only have a certain amount of months, or weeks, to live. Partially for whatever condition it is they have that led to this prognosis. But it's mostly because knowing makes life lose all it's meaning. Sure, you'll have the chance to do all the things that you wanted to do before you pass. You can say all the things you wanted to say, and see the people you wanted to see one last time. But how much will you really appreciate it? Will you enjoy the things you've always wanted to do? Will you even be able to pull yourself out of bed in the morning knowing that your time is limited?
I hope you never need to find out.
No comments:
Post a Comment