I remember a lyric from the song "Wake Up": "How far from birth to death, between breaths". I can understand the desire to live and the calmness of death between breathing and inhaling. In the past 40 years, I have experienced several faintings, once when I gave birth to my eldest daughter, I was difficult to give birth and bleed, and I was notified of the critical illness of the adult or the child, and I was already unconscious, I only remember that I cried before I was unconscious, hoping that the child would live. Until I woke up the next day, I was like a long sleep, very tired, and I didn't have the strength to look at the child more.
The second time was to go to Ganzi Prefecture for education, probably altitude sickness, the eyes were black, it seemed that his soul was floating up, looking at his body lying on the bed, not afraid at all, watching the people around me calling me, but I did not have the strength to respond at all.
The third time I had a small operation, I felt incontinent after doing it, and then the whole person fell down, only to remember my husband holding me, crying all the time, and there was a lot of reluctance in my heart.
For me the seconds before and after fainting are conscious but the consciousness cannot dominate the body. Just between the breaths and inhalations, it seems that nothing is missing, and I don't know if the tears represent the acceptance of everything.
After experiencing "suspended animation", every day I am grateful to see the new sun, to meet my family, and to meet many people with fate. I've been to every day seriously. Because today may be goodbye to some people in life and never see each other again. Nothing is our own, including life. These days I have been running to several hospitals. There was a long queue at the toll window of the top three hospitals, all the way to the staircase, holding the patient number of the payment list or the family seriously waiting for that hope. Yes or no. A few more people are reflecting on why they are so sick. These days of running for my family, I have been thinking about the meaning of illness for life. If death is the end of life, then is illness a station for the repair of life? Many people who have a serious illness suddenly wake up, heal without treatment, put it down, and see it open. The illness is getting better. Some people are sick and continue to reincarnate in their personalities, unaware of the gifts sent by life with illness. It wasn't until I had no strength to grasp it anymore that I had to let go.
How far from birth to death, between inhalations;
How far from the fascination to the enlightenment, between one thought.
From being there to nothing, between putting down.