On the Deathbed

I am genuinely interested in the thought process that occurs on the deathbed of what we consider as amazing people: Abraham Lincoln, Steve Jobs, Eleanor Roosevelt, Mother Theresa. There are many. Personally, I don't know any women and very few men who dedicate their lives to that which gives them pleasure. It is through work that their talents, dreams, desires are utilized and channeled. As I watch them, as I read books about Charles Lindbergh and the like, I see dedicated focus, hard work, perseverance, material wealth, recognition, major achievement in the physical world coupled with poor health and broken relationships.

These incredible people used all of themselves for the sake of creating something, much like I am creating this piece of writing at the expense of sleep and sound eating habits. If I ask myself why I am doing this, I would answer it is because I have a strong need to get my thoughts out. The unsettled has a way of finding expression, be it inward or outward, the latter leaving a more pleasant internal sensation. We produce and produce, there is no end in sight to our productivity. We are told to find what we love and do that. First, we do so much to find out what we love to do, then we do what we love to do, then we get married to what we love to do, then there is no separation between us and the thing we so loved to do until the day comes when we are on our deathbed. What goes on in the mind, the heart, and the soul at that moment? Was it all worth it? Was it everything we were told it would be? If I write a million essays in my lifetime, would my life be worthwhile? If I touch a single soul with my writing in my lifetime, would my life be worthwhile then? Would my life experience be meaningful and fulfilling to me if I do what I love? I don't know... I like to do many things, which I do. Still, there is something missing no matter how much I produce, how much I distract myself with the activity, no matter how many lives I touch in the course of my day. 

There seems to be a deeper seat of joy and fulfillment that is independent of any one activity. When this throne is touched, it doesn't matter what is done and not done. There is no need to produce anything in order to find happiness. It's already there. I would like to know a person's experience on his deathbed. Looking back on his life, what was it all for? I'd like to have that compass in my daily cocktail to navigate through the maze of this crazy existence.