There are many of us who can recount moments when we thought our end was nigh. Moments when death seemed likely. Moments when we might have prayed, been scared, and even an expletive was uttered. Moments that somehow, miraculously, passed and we escaped that great closure. Moments that are hard to forget.

It might have been while in a motor vehicle, or when something in our body decided to shut down, or when confronted with a random act of violence, whether in some place overseas or at the end of the street. Whatever. It happened. There was fear, maybe pain, and eventually relief.

These are moments where we need to do some selective forgetfulness. We need to, as our life goes on, not only forget the fear and pain, but also the constant stream of 'what ifs' that can plague us.

Like what if others were hurt by my actions? Like what if those I love watched me die? Like what if I'd been injured so badly, I'd live from then on with pain?

All these 'what ifs' need to be put in a folder and deleted. If we can. And if not, then seek some help.

And these near-death moments also require us to do some selective remembering. Remembering the good things that happened. Like that person who just happened to be walking by, who had the skills or a phone to call for help. Like that person who held our hand, and heart, through the valley of shadow. Like those who gifted bright encouragement, even laughter.

These are the memories to replay over and over. Memories not to store in a hard-to-find folder, but to have on our desktop, our screensaver.

Bringing God into this near-death mix is problematic. Ethically why should a supreme being/deity save me, and not everyone else? Why should a 66-year-old live, and a child somewhere else die? Does this deity roll a dice, and it was my turn to win? That is a strange, and ultimately destructive way of imagining God.

Yet another way to picture God is as a flow of goodness. The goodness in those who helped, in those who held us, in those who lifted us with joy.

And like we need to keep remembering those acts of goodness that helped us, so too we need to keep remembering that we too can likewise help others. Bringing even some healing, some hope.

The other thing about surviving a brush with death is that feeling of waking up, of realizing we're still alive, and being immensely grateful. It's a wonderful feeling. And, in most of us, it cultivates gratitude. Grateful for the big things - like being alive. But also for the little things - like light and air and trees and, especially, those in our lives who are constantly sharing kindnesses.

There are spiritual disciplines, meditations, not difficult to find on the internet, that can help us practice daily gratitude. Disciplines that affect our mood, how we see and treat others, how we understand our purpose in life. Disciplines that blend memories of goodness with what is now before our eyes and in our life.

You might not think of it as a spiritual discipline, but going for a walk is one. Playing with a child, or an animal is another. Listening to or making music. Cooking food for others. Simple things that can take us away from a preoccupation with our self and our worries and help us to realize, even for a moment, how dear this life is, how dear all that surrounds us is, and how dear those near to us are.

Glynn

(Image: Matthew Waring, Unsplash)