I do not remember being born, nor do I know what it will be like as I die.

Sometimes, I like to take a warm bath. I draw the water up to the edge of the overflow drain and then climb in. I cross my legs and lie down. Squeezing myself into the tub and laying back, I let the water envelope me and drown my senses. And for a brief span of time, everything beyond my mind falls away. I am free. But soon, the water disappears through the overflow drain. As the water drains away, my body fills back in. I feel the cold weight of my body begin to cling to my torso as I breathe in and rise. My own cold flesh wraps around me, tethering my mind to this world with tangible form.

I think that this must be what birth is like: transition from freedom in tiny space to entrapment in vast space. And I imagine that death must be like this too, only grander in scale.

2 Responses to “Birth/Bath/Death”

  1. mshooligan says:

    For some reason, I find comfort in this.

  2. illadi says:

    I think you have found the answer.