The Queen Has Died: Reflecting on Death

Yesterday, Queen Elizabeth II, my country’s longest serving monarch, died at the age of 96. The world is mourning her death.

Of course, in truth, no one really cares.

There is only the illusion of caring. Even those intoxicated on national pride don’t care: Their pride and ideologies, like all forms of pride and ideology, are an attempt at self-distraction.

People will cling to anything and everything they can to distract themselves — distract themselves from their own lives. The news — yesterday’s news — is another ripe opportunity.

I won’t give you the luxury of distraction. The Queen has died, but reflecting on your own upcoming death is of infinitely greater value.

Statistically, you are most likely to die laying on a hospital bed.

I will take you there now, will you join me?

I need not dwell on describing the room. You know what a hospital looks like. You know the off-white colour that coats every surface. You know the lighting — the millions of glowing, white eyes that stare down at you from the ceiling. Bright, always too bright.

You have no choice but to squint under their stare. Either that, or you keep your eyes closed (but you’ll be doing that soon anyway). Because you’re laying down on your bed. Head back, face up. On your white bed. A white bed many have died on before. A white bed that has been cleaned many times before.

But forget the scenery. You know what a hospital looks like.

I will walk with you through your mind, will you join me?

Perhaps you’ve thought about this day before. After all, it’s the one day that’s always been guaranteed to happen in your life. The memories — are they coming back? Are they the ones you expected?

Are you remembering the ‘good’ life you lived? All the good things you did? The times you worked hard, ate healthily, slept early, exercised, and said “no, thank you” to dessert? After all, was it not all these good, healthy things that kept you going? That made you feel good? That kept you fit to enjoy life?

Maybe.

But your life wasn’t all about saying “no, thank you.” If it was, what would’ve been the point of all those healthy things? What sort of idiot only labours for his fruits, but never actually enjoys them?

So, will you now remember the ‘fun’ life you lived? The holidays you went on, and the sights you saw? The skydives, and the bungee jumps? All the exotic food, and all those newfound flavours? After all, wasn’t all this fun what made life worthwhile? The rewards that kept you going? Discovery and experience: Are they not the essence of life?

Maybe.

But would any of it matter if you did it all alone? If you had no one to embark on those discoveries, and share those experiences, with? All those trips on planes, trains, and cars: How depressing would it have been to have done them solo?

In fact, there’s way more to it: How depressing would it have been to have lived as a loner? To, every night, come to an empty home?

The workday finishes, and your key twists in the front door.

Silence.

Even the jingle from your key bunch ends before you’ve taken off your shoes. You walk to your kitchen, in silence. No one’s there to smile at you; to ask you how your day was; to ask what’s happening for dinner; to talk about the weekend plans.

It’s just… silent.

My goodness! What a depressing thought! Thank heavens such a life was not yours! Yes, yes, maybe this was the answer along: people. People are what really made your life worth living.

Perhaps some of those people are gathered around you now. Gathered around your white bed. But, right now is not about them. It’s about you. You’re the one that’s about to die.

And maybe as Death’s white eyes continue to stare at you from the ceiling, and you look back, you have a rare moment of honesty. You might as well: The light is too bright — your rose-tinted glasses are of no use now.

Those people, the ones you cherished so much, the ones that made life worthwhile… why? Why did they spend so much time with you? Why did you need to chase them, and why did they chase you?

Need. It was always about need. You needed things from them, and they needed things from you. Love. Company. A cure to the silence.

Okay, so what? What’s bad about people needing people? Isn’t that just a part of being human? Don’t the psychologists say that social interaction is a ‘must’ for good mental health? A ‘must’ for a good life?

The white eyes from the ceiling intensify their stare. Perhaps it’s time for an even more honest moment.

Where did all your needs and desires take you? When you satisfied them, what happened?

You chased the next thing.

And the next thing.

And the next.

There was hard work. There were fun times. There were all the people. This was your life. Good times and bad times. Of course, isn’t that what a human’s life is?

For a moment, forget everything else. Why are you asking these questions? Why are you thinking about your life? All you have done, your whole life, is think.

You thought about this. You thought about that. About people, about things, about desires. About life. And every thought, desire, and action — where did it lead you? To another thought, desire, and action.

I’ll ask you again: Why are you thinking?

Just admit it. You never, in the end, found what you were looking for.

Completeness. Having enough.

Yes, it’s true: You never found it. Today, perhaps you are young. Today, perhaps you say: “After I settle down, pursue a good career, and build a family — then I will have it. Then I will be fulfilled.”

And this is precisely why nothing will complete you. Dreaming and chasing only lead to more dreaming and chasing. This will always be the case. It is as true today as it will be tomorrow. And on the day you die.

In fact, the day you die may be the only day you fully realise this.

Realise the fact that there there was nothing to be found. That this was the ultimate truth.

Now… if only you could go back.

Well, time’s up.