The Final Curtain

Since losing my morbid fears, I have not feared the actual process of dying. That may change as I grow older, but so far, the big scary imponderable is that death is, as far as we know, the end. Curtains. Finito. Kaput.

Much as I love the ideas and the poetry in Christian and Pagan mythology, I am aware that the ideas come from an age when rationality and scientific proof was not a requirement of truth; and much as I am aware that Science has its own fatal flaws I tend to react instinctively as a product of the 20th Century. I hate to think that my very survival beyond this monkey frame depends upon my conception of the world; then again, rather that than being told, it's Jesus/Mohammed/Buddha/YourNameHere, or you fry forever in a vat of your own disbelief.

So what ARE my beliefs? I completed a Home Office questionaire yesterday, and one of the questions was, religion? I answered, Pagan Agnostic. Which is about right. I like Paganism of the Western kind, I distrust all the imported eastern religions. Then again, on what basis can I make a choice? Is there a choice to be made?

It's at times like this I turn to the words of St Paul:

And now, the end is near;
And so I face the final curtain.
My friend, I’ll say it clear,
I’ll state my case, of which I’m certain.

I’ve lived a life that’s full.
I’ve traveled each and ev’ry highway;
And more, much more than this,
I did it my way.

Regrets, I’ve had a few;
But then again, too few to mention.
I did what I had to do
And saw it through without exemption.

I planned each charted course;
Each careful step along the byway,
But more, much more than this,
I did it my way.

Yes, there were times, I’m sure you knew
When I bit off more than I could chew.
But through it all, when there was doubt,
I ate it up and spit it out.
I faced it all and I stood tall;
And did it my way.

I’ve loved, I’ve laughed and cried.
I’ve had my fill; my share of losing.
And now, as tears subside,
I find it all so amusing.

To think I did all that;
And may I say - not in a shy way,
No, oh no not me,
I did it my way.

For what is a man, what has he got?
If not himself, then he has naught.
To say the things he truly feels;
And not the words of one who kneels.
The record shows I took the blows -
And did it my way!