It’s a bit dicey, writing this kind of stuff. After all, I am a middle-aged man who lives in a comfortable suburban home. Who am I to think about such weighty subjects as life and death? Isn’t worrying about raising well adjusted kids, paying the mortgage and making sure dinner is ready in time for American Idol enough? Well, that depends on the week. When they sang Barry Manilow songs, for that moment, it was enough. Stevie Wonder week, not so much. And yet, even though I have one foot firmly rooted in this physical world, another part of me has always had my head somewhere else. I just wish I knew where that somewhere was!

I just read an article about Art Buchwald, the columnist and author whose books and columns I used to read. He is in a hospice, after refusing life saving dialysis treatments. After a full life, one that I have read included bouts of depression, the article states that Buchwald is at peace with what is to come and is spending his last days leading a real life Tuesdays With Morrie existence. Friends and family are gathering around him to reminisce, talk of matters great and small and endeavor to find some meaning, and I imagine for those closest to him, some solace in what is about to come. I hope when it is my turn to say goodbye, I can have an experience like that too.

When I read Tuesdays With Morrie, I found myself jealous of the author, not for having a best-selling book (well maybe a little), but for having had that experience. What I wouldn’t give to really have conversations like that with other human beings. Writing Beyond A Lifetime was first and foremost about writing, and finishing, a novel. Yet, as the story unfolded, it became so much more. Here was a chance to explore thoughts and fantasies I had about what happens when we die, and how the life we lived is tied up in it. Getting it published is just as much about having the chance to really share those thoughts and see where they lead as it is about having some financial success.

In the beginning pages of my book, the main character Michael Jacobs talks about his journey in the afterlife:

I don’t know much about this place, but I do think that it could be a lot more than what I have experienced. So, I’m waiting here to see who’s coming and what they have to offer me. Why am I telling this to you? Listen, my life, and my death, have been nothing to write home about. But, I have spent so much of this time alone. Something makes me feel that if I share this with somebody, it will help. Now, since I have no idea if anyone is even listening, I know this will be a one sided conversation. But, I’m willing to give it a shot.

Now, as a person with a fondness for the idea of synchronicity, finding myself doing something on the same order as Michael with this blog is pretty cool. The difference is, I hope to be able to discover that I am not just writing this for myself. I hope to find that not only will others read this, but they will respond as well. That thought is also really scary, but I guess that is what makes life, and death, so interesting.