Like Mother Like Son When It Comes to the Big Questions and Answers

I had my mid-life crisis in my mid 30s. Never mind that if it had been truly mid-life I’d be dead by now. I’m not, so I plan to be one of those miraculous 100+ somethings like the Delaney sisters. But in my mid to late 30s I thought life was over.

During my early mid-life crisis I wrangled with all the big questions.

“What is my purpose?” “Why am I here?” “Should I have a baby before I’m too old?” “Is it too late to accomplish my purpose if I ever figure out what the AF it is?” And the biggie,

“Am I already too old to get everything I want to do done before I die?”

Yeah, I was angsty and annoying. Even to myself. Especially to myself.

In my mid to late 30s I thought life was over

Two of the questions were answered over the next few years. One was that I was meant to be a mother. I had him as a single mom at age forty-one. Some people buy corvettes during mid-life. I had a baby.

When he was 3-years-old, and while I was rushing him to get ready to go somewhere, my son informed me,

“Mommy, there’s no such thing as time.”

My son, at age 3-years-old, gave me the answer to the worries of it being too late for me to accomplish everything before I die. Time doesn’t exist, and I wasn’t dead yet.

With that Quantum wisdom from the mouth of a babe, I started practicing mindfulness. Raising children makes focusing on the moment not only more possible but imperative. Children are full of surprises, as am I.

While mindfulness keeps us focused on our loved ones and the everyday beauty of life, there is no escaping the biggest question of all. It often wriggles in as we lay in the dark ready to fall asleep.

What the hell is death, what happens after it, and why?

Why do we have to do it? Dying sucks and I disapprove.

As a child I was certain about life after death. When I was 4-years-old, a babysitter tried to scare me into behaving by lighting a match and telling me that’s what hell was like, and that bad little girls went there. I told her with a child’s pure certainty,

“There is no such place as hell.”

That belief hasn’t changed as I’ve studied theology, psychology, and human development. It’s gotten stronger.

I received a liberal church upbringing where hell was never mentioned. I was convinced of life after death and felt secure in the love of the Infinite.

As I got old(er), I did become — if not frightened of — then more concerned about death. I was distraught that someday I’d have to leave my son, an only child. It seems so unfair. I became consumed by angst again.

So one day — tired of ruminating about it — I followed the path of radical acceptance taught by Richard Moss.

I lay down and cleared my mind as much as possible. I imagined being erased — dying, and there being nothing.

I did that until the fear disappeared. Eventually the possibility of feeling nothing after death became restful. Now whatever follows is acceptable to me. It’s a good place to be, since we have no control over the fact of our demise anyway.

Even after that experience of full acceptance, I’m still convinced of an afterlife. Reincarnation makes the most sense to me, as old bodies exit and new ones are born. Reincarnation allows time enough to make mistakes, learn from them, become better and better each lifetime, and to truly love.

The author Robert Heinlein wrote novels of the Long family, who lived well into their 100s. I wonder if that provides enough time to accomplish everything we want to do. I hope to reach at least 100 to find out.

One thing he claimed that kind of time could allow us to do is the title of the first book in the Long chronicles,

Time Enough for Love.

My son would say that since there’s no such thing as time, we definitely have time enough to love. And no time for hate.

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This post was previously published on MEDIUM.COM.

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