- Get on your deathbed
A number of years ago when Steve Chandler, author of reinventing yourself was working with psychotherapist Devers Branden, she put him through her “deathbed” exercise.
He was asked to clearly imagine himself lying on his own deathbed, and to fully realize the feelings connected with dying and saying good-bye. Then she asked him to mentally invite the people in his life who were important to him to visit his bedside, one at a time. As he visualized each friend and relative coming in to visit him, he had to speak to them out loud. He had to say to them what he wanted them to know as he was dying.
As he spoke to each person, he could feel his voice breaking. Somehow he couldn’t help breaking down. His eyes were filled with tears. He experienced such a sense of loss. It was not his own life he was mourning; it was the love he was losing. To be more exact, it was a communication of love that had never been there.
During this difficult exercise, he really got to see how much he’d left out his life. How many wonderful feelings he had about his children, for example, that he’d never explicitly expressed. At the end of the exercise, he was an emotional mess. He had rarely cried that hard in his life. But when those emotions cleared, a wonderful thing happened. He was clear. He knew what was really important, and who really mattered to him. He understood for the first time what George Patton meant when he said, “Death can be more exciting than life.”
From that day on he vowed not to leave anything to chance. He made up his mind never to leave anything unsaid. He wanted to live as if he might die any moment. The entire experience altered the way he’ve related to people ever since. And the great point of the exercise wasn’t lost on him: We don’t have to wait until we’re actually near death to receive these benefits of being mortal. We can create the experience anytime we want.
A few years later when his mother lay dying in a hospital in Tucson, he rushed to her side to hold her hand and repeat to her all the love and gratitude. He felt for who she had been for him. When she finally died, his grieving was very intense, but very short. In a matter of days he felt that everything great about his mother had entered into him and would live there as a loving spirit forever.
A year and a half before his father’s death, he began to send him letters and poems about his contribution to his life. His father lived his last months and died in the grip of chronic illness, so communicating and getting through to him in person wasn’t always easy. But always felt good that his father had those letters and poems to read. Once his father called him after he’d sent his father a Father’s Day poem, and his father said, “Hey, I guess I wasn’t such a bad father after all.”
Poet William Blake warned us about keeping our thoughts locked up until we die. “When thought is closed in caves,” he wrote, “then love will show its roots in deepest hell.”
Pretending you aren’t going to die is detrimental; tending to cause harm to your enjoyment of life. It is detrimental as the same way that it would be detrimental for a basketball player to pretend there was no end to the game he was playing. That player would reduce his intensity, adopt a lazy playing style, and, of course end up not having any fun at all. Without an end, there is no game. Without being conscious of death, you can’t be fully aware of the gift of life.
Yet many of us keep pretending that our life’s game will have no end. We keep planning to do great thing some day when we feel like it. We assign our goals and dreams to that imaginary island in the sea that Denis Waitley calls “Someday isle” in his book Psychology of Winning. We find ourselves saying, “Someday I’ll do this,” and “Someday I’ll do that.”
Confronting our own death doesn’t have to wait until we run out of life. In fact, being able to vividly imagine our last hours on our deathbed creates a paradoxical sensation: the feeling of being born all over again-the first step to fearless self-motivation. “People living deeply,” wrote poet and diarist Anaïs Nin, “have no fear of death.”
And as Bob Dylan has sung, “He who is not busy being born is busy dying.”
i love this song and i think its relatable with the context which im tring to tell you guys. hope you like it too !