I've just started reading Sallie Tisdale's book, Advice for Future Corpses, about coming to terms with  mortality - our own and our loved ones'. Wow. I'm only a few pages in, but already the sticky-note markers are flying. My only caveat is that I'll no longer read it right before bed - much too thought provoking.

I do think about my mortality, more so as the clock ticks. There came a point when I fully understood that the time ahead of me is less than the time behind me, so what do I want to do with that? Tisdale recommends getting familiar with, and comfortable with the fact of death. Flowers die. Beloved pets die. Strangers die. Loved ones die. We will die. I will die. 

Early in recovery, I toyed with the notion that I would probably drink again were I to receive a terminal diagnosis. Why not, right? I've since seen it go both ways - someone who drank, and and several who didn't and at this moment, I prefer the latter. As an African proverb (I don't know the exact source) says, "When death comes for me, let it find me alive."

A few years ago, the Cabal, a small group I've been meeting with for a decade now, tackled the Steps as related to the aging process. 1. I am utterly powerless over aging. No creams, vitamins, exercise, surgery or positive thoughts will stop the calendar from turning. 2. A Power greater than myself can restore me to sanity, with sanity meaning acceptance. 3. I surrender and attempt to trust the process. I can inventory my fears, share those, and then offer myself to my Creator, the good and the not so good, the wrinkles and arthritic hands, and can move to more fully accept that I am right where I'm supposed to be (4,5,6,7). I'm not as strong as I used to be. I don't run as fast as I once could. But I am WAY more comfortable in my own skin. The trade off is worth it. For about a year, I was part of a group of women with over 20 years sobriety. We called ourselves "Too Old to Give a F***" because, really, who cares? I'm being flip, but the truth is, I don't care about the same things I used to care about - my concerns are more inner than outer directed these days, less about what you think about me and more about the state of my soul.

My goal is to live to a healthy 100. Why not? I've completed 10 marathons, and a 100 mile bike ride - 100 years old seems like a good, round goal. But whether I have 30 years or 30 days remaining, what do I want to do with my precious time? I'm not suggesting productivity necessarily, though there are items on my to-do list. I'm thinking more about what I'd like to experience, what I'd like to learn more about, what fears I'd like to release, who I'd like to spend time with, and who needs to know that I love them.

Tisdale suggests identifying what I am specifically afraid of in regards to dying. My mother had a peaceful death, at home, as she wanted. Her experience informs my fears - I don't have biological children. Who will sit with me at the end? Will I be alone? I have fears about things undone. (Tisdale quotes her Buddhist teacher as saying, "I'm not afraid to die. I'm just not ready.")  I'm not ready, materially, emotionally, or spiritually, and I am fully aware that I don't get to decide. That's one thing that amused and annoyed my mom. She was a planner (as am I) and as her time grew near, said with just a hint of sarcasm, that this wasn't something that could be decided. We did plan - the paperwork was all in place. But you can't plan for the feelings. I couldn't plan for the experience of grace, of the beauty and the agony of watching my mother die. She seemed to make peace with it, over time, though that was a process. I can only imagine.

And so, I will continue my journey through the 12 Steps and 12 Traditions, over and over and over again. I will do my best to remain present, and teachable, in this and all areas. I will appreciate the joys that are mine today, and there are many.

In thinking and writing about death, I'm not feeling morbid, or particularly sad. I am being realistic, and curious, and grateful for growing older with a clear and sober mind. This life is amazing - the boring days and the peak experiences, and everything in between, one day at a time.

Do you think about mortality? What are your fears, if any? Where does your mind go when you meditate or daydream, when you think about the future?