1.我不会做任何不同的事，但我会彻底改变。我周围的大多数人都会注意到我的变化，但他们几乎无法说清楚我哪里变了。如果非要他们说，他们可能会说：“他一点都没变，只是做事都慢了下来，好像想记住味道似的。”
2. 我会停止做我现在正在做的几乎所有事情，停止工作，停止长时间待在室内打字发邮件，停止勾选那些大部分时候都不会勾选的复选框，直到我干脆把它们划掉，停止每天下午在明媚的阳光下摆放任务，就像一个男人在田野里采摘花朵一样，这样他就可以走到田野的尽头，最终不再担心那些剩下的花朵。
3. 我会把大部分时间都花在户外，仰望天空。这片天空碰巧是蓝色的，但它也可能是其他任何颜色，不是吗？毕竟，太阳系和宇宙万物如此丰富多彩、变幻莫测。想想看，那里有由气体构成的巨型行星，比如木星和海王星，或许还有天王星；火星上还有一场巨大的红色云风暴，它和一棵树一样古老，面积比巴西和捷克斯洛伐克加起来还要大，再加上罗德岛和特拉华州，简直不值一提。我会花更多时间仰望蓝天，惊叹于它本可以是任何其他颜色，唯独不是这淡淡的乳蓝色，在已知的行星天空中，再也找不到第二个与之相似的颜色。
4. 我几乎肯定会以不同的方式栖居我的身体，让它带着我四处游荡，纯粹为了享受其中的刺激，享受它数万亿个细胞之间自我维护、自我调节、自我修复、自我和谐的交响乐般的嗡鸣，再加上细胞内的所有液体和组织液，还有所有离子通道，以及奇迹般地促进了我们身体内部数万亿个内外之间的所有墙壁、边界和边界地带的跨越，以及数万亿个折纸般折叠的蛋白质的生成和解构，它们隐藏着锁和与之匹配的酶钥匙，所有这些都通过层层保险、冗余机制运作，这台神奇的机器最终汇聚成我对自己平常不满的钝化矛尖。
5. 我会增加性生活还是减少？很难比现在减少性生活，所以很有可能我会增加性生活，虽然这真的很难说，因为性生活似乎是你在生命尽头才会希望自己多做一些的事情，渴望摆脱被自己衰弱的身体束缚在床垫上的痛苦，渴望摆脱护士为了避免褥疮而翻身，渴望摆脱戴着手套的手在脸颊上摩擦的痛苦。但也许并非如此。
6. 我想我会去那些万物正在消逝的地方，这样在我们离开之前，我就可以和它们一一吻别：澳大利亚的堡礁，皮包骨头却依然凶猛（或者说格外凶猛）的北极熊，逃离缅因州海域前往纽芬兰寒冷海域的龙虾，濒临灭绝的露脊鲸（它们的数量甚至比一所高中的毕业生还少），还有山地大猩猩、雪豹和棱皮龟，以及所有消失在寂静中的昆虫，西伯利亚和西北地区正在融化的永久冻土，以及正在消退的冰川——这很可能是它们未来五十万年甚至更长时间内的最后一次消退。我会为我自己、我的孩子，以及那些我永远无法相见的远在半个地球之外的孩子们的曾孙们，吻别它们。
7. 我想我会像爱自己的儿子一样爱上所有人，爱上每个人睡着时头发垂落的样子，爱上每个人睡着的样子，都那么完美，那么彻底地孤独，那么遥远，却又渴望被保护。这是飞行或乘坐夜间火车旅行最美好的事情之一：所有乘客在各自秘密的旅程中，一起入睡，仿佛在陌生人中间闭上眼睛，以每小时500英里的速度在离地5英里的高空闭目入睡，是世界上最自然不过的事情。我甚至会爱上他们身上散发着的灼热气息，爱上每一个鳏夫，爱上每一个舒展的青少年，爱上每一对父母，他们的孩子像漂浮物一样堆在他们身上，爱上每一个男人、每一个女人、每一个“他们”的嫩芽，都悬在黑暗的车厢里。我想说的是，我会更像沃尔特·惠特曼。
8. 我会编造各种借口去见我遇到的每一个人，和他们握手，凝视他们的眼睛，然后我们永远地消失。“我是你街对面的邻居，也是你隔壁两个镇的邻居，我是爱荷华人，是美国人，我一直想告诉你，我对你放在院子里的标语牌、保险杠贴纸或T恤衫上的东西非常感兴趣，它们都在向陌生人介绍你。我愿意倾听，我真的很想听听，请你告诉我更多，为什么不告诉我更多呢？我在这里倾听。”
9. 我觉得我的慷慨和贪婪之间的关系会颠倒过来，我会尽可能多地捐赠（而不是尽可能多地储蓄），只存够维持生存所需的钱。想想看，我和妻子目前在401K、502Z或403C账户里的468,234美元，在等待结肠镜检查结果8天，等待着是否是癌症的时候，还有什么可赚可存的？更何况，就像人生中其他所有棘手的事情一样，它暂时悬着，没有掉下来。但如果我抬头就能看到那只鞋，并且从心底里知道它一定会掉下来，那么，还有什么可存的钱，还有什么安全感，还有什么95%的把握能保证我不会耗尽毕生积蓄，还能像现在这样享受生活到92岁半？要知道，一位理财顾问告诉我，他预计我会活到92岁半。
我当然不相信他。
10. 我不知道为什么之前没说，但我几乎肯定会辞职。也许不会马上辞职，因为如果我继续做这份工作，我还能做些好事，但我同时也清楚地意识到，我必须离开，而且我终将死去。但是，在那之后，我又怎能不辞职呢？我见识和经历都如此有限。我指的其实不是旅行，虽然那是我首先想到的。我指的是，在同一份工作上待了这么久，已经在我的生活中刻下了深深的印记。即使我从未离开过爱荷华州，我也会有更多的地方可以去看看，更多的人可以去认识，更多的事物可以去了解和探索，而不是像现在这样，整整半辈子都只待在自己那小小的、我打扫打扫了半辈子的小店里。而且我甚至不认为我特别擅长我现在正在做的事情，但这并不是说这是继续做某件事的正确理由，但如果你特别适合或特别有天赋去做你决定花 20 年时间去做的事情，那这将是一个令人信服的理由。
我肯定会辞职。
11. 如果我真的知道，如果我的身体真的确信我即将死去，我想我会获得最大的觉醒。否认死亡是我所有心不在焉、与世隔绝生活的根源吗？如果没有这种否认，我会把这世间的种种戏剧，我内心世界的种种戏剧，都看作是一种有趣的插曲，一种轻盈闪亮的消遣，用来转移我对人生主线的注意力。我会明白，真正应该关注的地方，几乎无人关注，至少我认识的人中无人关注。
12. 我想我会花更多的时间陪伴动物，花更多的时间在田野、森林、海洋和溪流中。每当我想象着永远离开这个星球会是什么样子，我的心就如同孩童般渴望着动物，不仅仅是它们被拟人化的奇幻形态，更是它们与我们自身那分叉的奇异之处交织在一起的真实面貌。它们的心脏、它们的血管、它们像我们一样质地如豆腐般坚韧的大脑，还有它们数个胃、许多只眼睛，以及能够找到自己，回到地球另一端，回到它们很久以前出生的地方的能力。从某种意义上说，它们是我们被遗忘的伙伴，是整个宇宙中我们所知的唯一用它们那奇特的眼睛注视着我们的生物，也是唯一能够注视着我们注视着它们的生物。我现在想念它们；当我离开时，我也会想念它们。
13. 我会以最平凡的方式更加友善。
14. 当然，我无法确定这一切，因为我只能想象真正与自身死亡的现实相连会是怎样的感受。我只能在余光中瞥见自己的死亡，它像是一个身影，或者说是一个身影的影子，一道黑暗的闪光，然后我转过身去面对它，它就消失了，取而代之的是日复一日、看似美好却永无止境的生活。只有在梦中，我才体验到死亡的临近。
梦里，我胸口近距离中弹，疼痛难忍，子弹穿过我的躯干，从右肩胛骨下方穿出。我内心深处某种原始的本能告诉我，这伤不仅致命，而且我很快就会死去，可能就在几秒或几分钟之内。我现在努力回想当时的情景，那种黑暗的恐慌，那种血液流尽、剧痛如雷霆般在脑海中持续不断的清醒，究竟是怎样的。这就像试图想象生活在小行星上。如果我与星际死亡如此接近，这个世界会显得多么荒诞，多么奇妙，多么令人惊叹。
15. 我大学时有一次开车睡着了。细节令人唏嘘，但关键是，那天清晨，我清醒地驾驶着车沿着87号州际公路向北行驶，此前我熬了一整夜。太阳即将升起，夜间驾驶的疲惫似乎已经过去，我放松了警惕，不再理会自己的疲惫。我当时在高速公路的左侧车道上，时速大概70英里，突然感觉就像一把巨大的剪刀伸过来，把我的意识彻底剪断，然后眼前一片漆黑。在梦乡的黑暗中，我听到一种可怕的声音，像是无数匹骏马在我身下奔腾的蹄声。然后我睁开眼睛，看向驾驶座的车窗外，看到我们的车正快速地侧滑下路堤。我本能地猛打方向盘，车子仿佛一阵强风吹起一片树叶，向上飘了起来。
就在那一刻，我脑海中响起一个冷静的男声，一个科学的、客观的、近乎荒谬的中立的声音说：“你会死的。”我知道这声音说的是绝对的真理。这声音就像水一样：无味、清澈、冰冷，无可辩驳地至关重要，无比真实。而不知怎的，我就是那个声音。我不悲伤，不害怕，什么感觉都没有。当我读到叶芝的诗句“冷眼旁观，生死，骑兵经过”时，我想起了那一刻。轮胎抓地力十足，汽车猛地冲上路堤，回到高速公路上，原地转了三圈，最后停在路肩旁的护栏边，仿佛被老虎戏弄了一番。如果我每天都能这样体验死亡，我会无比庆幸自己还活着，真的，无比庆幸。
16. 如果我的所有想象都是错的呢？我好像在暗示所有癌症晚期患者都应该成为大师，比那些未确诊的晚期患者更容易看穿自我欺骗的面纱。我们真的有可能与死亡保持联系吗？或者说，人体对死亡的防御机制太过严密，又或者，人体构造本身就决定了真相无法被审视，就像没有镜子就看不到后脑勺一样。
这种想法我根本无法走得太远。我内心深处有一种力量，它抗拒着这个结论，这种抗拒远超逻辑——它深深地扎根于我的骨髓，仿佛死亡就隐藏在每一刻。事实上，与其说我确信自己最终无法触及死亡的真相，我或许更倾向于认为，死亡是我所知的为数不多的事物之一，而我每天都在经历着一千次甚至一万次的自我死亡。我这么说并非为了故弄玄虚或抽象——生与死的确存在，可以被看见和体验，但它们被叙事模糊了，就像每秒24帧的画面模糊了电影的画面一样。死亡无处不在，孕育着新的生命。而我却与两者都失去了联系。与其中一方的疏离，必然也意味着与另一方的疏离。当我说我不了解死亡时，我其实也是在说我不了解生命。如果我了解死亡，我便懂得了如何生活。
17. 与你一生挚爱之人的遗体相伴，真是一件非同寻常的事。我想用“不可思议”来形容这种感觉，虽然我不知道这个词是否恰当——这只是我脑海中浮现的第一个词。当我在缅因州南波特兰的殡仪馆里，坐在父亲的遗体旁时，我不仅知道他已经去世；我还知道他彻底地、完全地离开了。在那一刻，我知道他曾经像光芒、像火花一样存在于他的身体里，而现在，所有的光芒都已彻底熄灭，永不复返。当然，我不知道我当时的感觉是否正确，但在那一刻，当我坐在或跪在他身旁时（我已经记不清是哪种姿势了），我握着他冰冷的手，看着他灰白而伤痕累累的脸，我知道他已经彻底地、完全地从这无限的宇宙中消失了。他的遗体依然在那里，而他却已不在人世，这对我来说，就像是你能想象到的最离奇的魔术。他彻底消失在了死亡的黑帽之下。奇怪的是，他的彻底消失并没有让我感到背叛，也没有让我更加沮丧或消沉。这对我来说似乎是理所当然的。这就像一个不容置疑的事实，照亮了其他事实。比如，我的父亲就像一朵短暂而不可复制的花朵，如今他已离去。他的一生，无论好坏，又有什么可挑剔的呢？面对他以某种形式存在了如此之久，而如今他将永远消失的事实，就像他的所有孩子、子孙后代终有一天也会消失一样，除了静静地感受惊奇、爱和赞叹，还能做什么呢？我们竟然存在过。
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22 PAST RESPONSES
For me this is all nonsense. I am 80 years old, very healthy, and sure this is my last incarnation. I also believe I won't really die but go somewhere wonderful. I know some of my past lives. Recently I saw fit to warn a favorite priest about a strong feeling of love he may experience because several of our siblings from the immediate past life are back. It was a tremendously loving family we had. My soul recognized him right away, so I struggled with all the love I felt. Of course he did not want to hear this, but I felt sure I needed to give him a heads up. It wasn't easy. Someday maybe he will thank me for the admonition that "it's only sibling love" so go easy. I perhaps saved him some disquiet. . . . Beyond that, I'm trying for joy and to keep a good thought, to be less critical and to forgive. I have a book to finish writing, but fooey, if I don't, it's okay. A few times I wish I had screamed and wrung someone's neck, but I had no breath. I could not do more. On the other side I'm a ballet dancer. I'll get back to Paris and wear pink silk again, be beautiful and make beauty. Now back to the bright socks I'm knitting for a little boy due in May.
[Hide Full Comment]Thank you so much for sharing this great and amazing topic! Hope to read more of your blog soon! From Best Relocation Services
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Thank you, Eric...so, so much. Such beauty and raw honesty... to add to the growing list...
23. If I were fully convinced I were going to die, I would give up trying so hard. I would not care about showing up late, what others thought of me, and maybe even what I thought of myself. I would tell everyone I care about how much I cared about them. Then, I would go out into the woods with my husband and kids and cry and feel the ground with my bare feet and hug the trees and smell the grass and watch the hawks circle and pray with all my heart to find and feel that connection to something greater, bigger, and more transcendent that I suspect finds itself even in the ever-changing, birthing, and dying.
Loved it and resonated with all of them. Dying and birthing every moment of every day! 13 stuck with me the most. Thank you for this beautiful and amazing piece Eric and thank you Mark for pointing me to it.
This is one of the great reads about death, life - which one feels are two sides of the same coin. I really enjoyed reading it and reading it again. There were so much in it, hard to take it all in at once, but through great writing skill, Eric expressed everything so beautifully and powerfully and also simply - thus making it easy for one to digest it. The descriptions, ideas, thoughts, experiences, imagination, wisdom... all present, flowing together throughout the writing - helping one to get new insights, to question one's own way of seeing death which in turn reflects, bring up living as well, the issue and challenges of life.
Reading this, one feels like being walked into something special and that which reminds one of something that awaits one, in close or distance but surely there which in turn encourages one to really live.
One also feels that, dying is a wonderful phenomenon, something that clears everything, giving way to a new to emerge, but the fear keeps one somewhere that would make one afraid of one's life coming to an end, with that all one has possessed, achieved, accumulated over one's course of life. Maybe it's the ending of it all (one feeling that what would happen to this all I worked for, made sacrifices, struggles to gain..) that would make one feel like not letting go or accepting that that is what would happen at the end. The very realization may trigger a transformation, a radical change (if there is one) thus resulting in change of one's life, one's outlook of it, and how one would live the life beautifully, intelligently amidst its simplicity, challenges.
Thank you Eric for reflecting on this topic, issue and in such great length.
[Hide Full Comment]22. If I were fully convinced I’m going to die, if that reality hit hard and stuck fast, I guess I’d start with some more of the same. I would imagine my faithful mom decaying in the ground because I can’t get past that thought; and I’d flail for a time in fear and contempt and self-pity and sadness. Then my head would try to look for answers in the knowing; but when that failed, my soul would find its way in the doing. I’d shave my beard, make out with my wife, hug my kids hard, and get down to living. I would stop seeking comfort. I would talk more and mean it. I would write more and feel it. I would service in secret and leave breadcrumbs for my children to find. And all the while, I would hope for something more, something next, something enduring.
21. I would dance. Everywhere! Life is music. I realize how conditioned I am to walk and function and present in a socially comfortable way. As it is, I don't always hold tight to social comforts, but I would dance more. Move my body, engage others even when it weirds them out. Life does not exist in right angles or straight lines. It moves and twists, and I'd spend more time actively moving and twisting, cracking myself up, and hopefully cracking up a bunch of people with me.
One time I heard someone say, if you don't think you know how to dance, just spell your name in the air with your butt...and you're dancing!
And basically, I'd think less about outcomes and just move how I feel the movement wants to happen. Overflowing with love.
20. I would stop doing anything that doesn't bring me alive, ironically. I think many of us die before we die. I don't mean the ego, but the spirit to live. We die when we live in such a way that kills us slowly, kills our spirit of joy, kills our spirit of adventure, kills our spirit of service. That which brings these alive in me is my measure of a good living.
I love people. I love the idea of making excuses to meet people. I have thought a lot about quitting my job. There are things i love about it and things that i struggle with a lot. I have long wanted to wander the national parks and state parks and coasts and epic trails and camp and sleep under stars and swim in oceans and lakes and rivers and wade in streams. I want to watch ants and butterflies and fox and white-tail deer and trout and dragonflies all go about their business unhindered. I have sat with my dying mother and father and dogs and a deer on a dark highway once. Each experience before and after the transition was unique unlike any other. Each had a profound affect on me that i will never forget. ever. Death has a way of riveting one's attention when experienced first hand.
IN a way, contemplating death and what i would do, is a really good measure of what i should be doing right now. I think that may be Eric's point. What gives us courage to do that without the excuse of an impending death? Maybe as i questioned above, death is here knocking, and we need to wake up to living soon.
[Hide Full Comment]What a fun line of inquiry Eric! How could you not want to keep going?
19? If I were to be convinced I were actually going to die, I would rehearse more regularly for the live production. Death’s stage might be a lousy place to forget my lines, how to use the platform and present yourself well, or flounder in my assigned character. It doesn’t seem a good time for hoping, rather than knowing my role; it is hard to tap into nuances required to win an Oscar. So, for now, I will keep practicing my role, listening to the director’s comments, watching my co-stars to be their supporting actor. I love that their is an award for “best supporting actor” for the ones that know everyone’s else’s role so they can make them look good. And then, after experiencing all that excitement during the your car crash, find out I survived!
My heart leapt when I clicked through to Eric's piece and discovered it had already been read more than 2,400 times. When I finished reading the final entry, I excitedly scrolled down hoping to find 15-30 lengthy reflections, but there were just two beautiful, but brief, comments. My heart sank. I refreshed the page to find the view counter had increased by another 200. My heart danced anew. Ha! The vicissitudes of a bean-counting mind.
At its current pace, "17 Things" is likely to exceed 5,000 reads by 2 PM PST. Is there vitality in virality and, conversely, a death in dearth? As Lao Tzu might say: such nonsense!
Unbidden, I am going to boldly add to a No. 18 in the hope that it will serve as a seed for others to offer entries 19 through 190.
18. I would keep a stick of sidewalk chalk in my pocket when walking and write haikus to the improbably blue sky, trees, discarded styrofoam cups, ants and those minuscule red mites while squatting like a sumo wrestler over an overlooked section of delicately-detailed concrete canvas. And if anyone should happen upon me and inquire as to what I was up to, I would look him or her in the eye and say the poem was ours, then hand them the chalk with the invitation to title the pithy piece. And if this newfound collaborator were to ask more about how I got started doing this, I would tell them about my friend Eric, his "17 Things", and how my life is so much richer having been able to listen to the music emanating from his "trillions of insides and outsides."
[Hide Full Comment]Lovely! Thank you.
Thank you Eric poignant profound and yes, moving.