It is an idyllic June day.
The temperature is around 80 degrees. There’s a beautiful blue clear sky. The world looks wonderful. The grass in my front yard looks nice.
I have a powerful desire to go out and lay down face first in my front yard. I just want to lie there. I want to stretch out my arms and feel Mother Earth. I want to practice my breathing, to still myself, to see if I could feel her heartbeat.
I move towards the front door.
I open it, prepared to embrace nature.
I realize this is a terrible idea.
I can’t just lay down face first in my front yard.
If my neighbors saw me, they would crap themselves. Their immediate thought would be, “Oh, dear God, he’s dead. Again.”
Their second most immediate thought would be, “I hope someone else sees him so they can deal with him and not me.” This is a natural reaction, much like when you can’t help but look when you pass a dreadful car accident, but you’re glad someone else has already pulled over.
It’s easier letting other people deal with a dead guy face down on a lawn.
Better them than you. The only upside for them is that after the ambulance left, they could post about it on social media. I would. There’s nothing like posting trauma on social media, especially when it’s someone else that’s experiencing the actual trauma. You get to be in trauma because it’s like a disease you caught from them just by being too close.
I anticipate their reaction because my “Death from Heart Attack” event gave me an understanding of what it’s like to die around people. They don’t like it. It’s a huge disruption in their daily lives and by huge disruption, I don’t mean getting a phone call telling them that their car warranty has expired and or that an evil person stole the package they were expecting from Amazon off their front step. When I say “huge”, I mean a really disruptive part of their day that’s going to stick with them for a very long time to come.
I know this because of actions I took after I went back to work soon after being dead for a while. When you have a heart attack, your focus on…