There must be a tipping point in life where the physical will to live overcomes the ennui of life, the disgust with carrying on for one more tedious day. Best to expire before that moment occurs.

For a couple of minutes earlier today I experienced intense heart palpitations–a strong physical awareness of my heart fluttering and convulsing in my chest. I thought, well maybe this is a heart attack. And then, I hope it’s a big one, no desire to linger on and become a cardiac patient. In the span of two or three minutes I found myself feeling peaceful about it. OK, if that’s the way it’s going to happen, then so be it. Simultaneous to all that I was analyzing my symptoms and gradually concluding that this could not be a heart attack. There was no real pain involved, nor the numbness in the arm and so forth that I imagine are signs of a real heart attack. And my heart has been checked over. Yes, it’s been three or four years ago (maybe more), but surely things haven’t changed that much in that amount of time. All this happening in 180 seconds or so, trying to catch my breath, feeling heat in my neck. Maybe it was a panic attack. But the idea that if it had been something serious, that I would be at peace about it was greatly comforting to me.

More terrifying to me is to pass beyond that point where it seems the physical body takes over and demands to persist despite all evidence that one’s usefulness is over. I question the point of prolonging life just to add more days. But will my will resist the pulling down to earth, the inevitable insistence on persistence that the physical body inflicts upon the contents of the mind, or the soul if you like?