Everything Ends
from the beginning we’re working toward the end. we slowly grow towards life, we are born and we grow
toward death. when we start something, we mean to finish it, although that may not always happen. so
what is life? what is living? why the urge to continue when we know it is going to end? is it because we don’t
know when its going to end? we struggle through the muck and exist in the mire and push toward
the end in the hopes of finding a new beginning in order to once again see it end. so that’s life? a series of
little deaths. we exist in death. theend in the beginning. the beginning in the end. the very meaning of the death
tarot. physically, mentally, metaphorically…we are enshrouded in tiny little deaths. it’s almost a beautiful thing.
almost. so what makes us so afraid to live? surely not because we are afraid of the end. why fear the end
if its always been followed by a new beginning? we spend life fearing death and debating whether or not
there even is a new beginning. the inevitable ending to the inevitable beginning. we fear it so much
the we forget to live life. we waste a lot of time and then before we know it. it’s ending. how high
was the price, and more importantly…was it worth it? did you really live? did you love? were you
loved? did you laugh? or were you so afraid that you just simply forgot to have those things? and
the sweetness of a bitter death. did you spend all of your life fearing others and their rejection of
you, which is really just their way of rejecting themselves? their own fear of death. their own fear of
life, actually. so we blame everything on the past, thinking we have no control what so ever over the
end. no we don’t get that. we certainly do try though, don’t we? to control the end. we make medicine
so we don’t die. or we kill ourselves so we get to say when we die. but
Life.Is.Ours.To.Control. after we spend out lifetime living in fear of living we wake up to find
out we are dying. and then we realize that we’ve never really lived. at the death of everyday, are you
satisfied with how you’ve lived? that, my friends, is success. i cannot physically stand and
reach the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel, but that doesn’t mean i should live as though i never will. i
can write it, read it, paint it, draw it, dream it, sing it, dance it and possibly one day get a ladder and
climb up to it and touch it. that is an ending. the death of a part of life spent living. one way or
another, through all of those activities, you’ve lived. did you run the gamut or did you run away from
it? at the end of the day are you exhausted from fighting to live or from fighting from living.
there are people who exist to simply live and they live within their confines in total contentment. they
keep the physical part of life alive. some of us get stuck there. then there are those people who
live to live. to be extraordinary. to stand out from the usual act of existing and make an impact on
those who simply exist. good or bad. serial killer or superhero. they are the ones who live forever.

© Rose Spotts