5. Dying star

Sometimes I sit down and watch a documentary about space.  It turns on the memories of childhood years, and children laying in the grass, gazing at the sky, the clouds storming about, forming all kinds of strange forms, looking like animals, and star bright winter evenings when the myriad of stars lit up the black sky so it was possible to see the milk road with bare eyes.
It happened now, when I watched a television episode about space, and saw a star die, dissolve into atoms and disappear, with accompanying very loud sounds.

In films about space, is added sounds, and often percussion and dramatic sounds, no doubt to make the subject more interesting and even magnificent.  Thus, dying stars are shown as an explosion that spreads in all directions with great and dramatic sounds.  The fact is, however, that the space is a void, and the void is silent.  For a sound to be heard, we need atmosphere and there is not atmosphere in space. So stars die in silence, exactly like everything else.

This time there was no sound, I had turned it off, looked only at the star die, dissolve and disappear and then, suddenly, memory awoke within me, I knew how it was, how it was to be dissolved and disappear, had a memory of it happening in my own body.
Something happened, inside of me, I do not know what, but that got me to write about it and tell you, how it is, to die.

When I died, so many years ago, and experienced the trip through the tunnel, memories leaving and the feeling, when I dissolved into atoms and disappeared, it was completely silent.
There was total silence, absolute stillness, no sound, not the slightest movement. It was like nothing. No, not like, it was nothing.
Thus, it is to die, it is this that we experience, everything so still and silent.
I wish I had words to describe it for you, how peaceful it is to die, how calm, fearless and silent, but it is not possible to give another the feeling of peace, tranquility and silence.

If I were still to try, then I would tell you to go out, in calm weather, early morning, all alone, before the busyness of life has begun, perhaps when everything is covered with snow, and all is so still and so quiet that you not even hear a bird sing, and you feel within you tranquility and peace, absolute silence, like nothing.
I know everyone has felt this, at least once in their lifetime, yet in different occasions and situations, but some have so forgotten it again, but somewhere inside of us is the memory, the feeling, and even though it is not the event itself, but only the memory of it, then can the memory provoke the feeling, of peace in the heart, reassurance that everything is as it should be.
That is how death is.

Everything that lives dies in this way, because that is how death is, for us all, peaceful and completely silent.

Death is nothing we need to fear, it is not heaven, not imitation of life as we know it, here on earth, where are ongoing and continual disputes and hatred; it is not soccer and golf forever.
Death is not like a beautiful dream, or what we wish it to be, it can never be an idea or desire or fear, it was not nor will be again, it can never be anything.

When the time has come, and death approaches, the body knows exactly what to do, it is congenital to know that, from the beginning.
We let go, we experience within us silent and effortless explosion, and so we dissolve and disappear into the void.  As the dying stars.  As all.  Simple, peaceful, silent and true.  Death is nothing.