The Only Way To Go

When I was a new seminarian I had a favorite parish priest mentor who told me the best way to die is while having an ******. I wasn't sure if I could ask why he was so exclamatory sure of his nakedly compromising position. I did not really know him all that well, although he seemed to be a swell up kind of Father. Perhaps I looked a bit nervous because he hastened to reassure me the reason he is enamored of orgasms, of diastatic experience, is because they transcend our language boundaries between Eros and Agape. Orgasms are ecstatic climatic events, warm full-bodied memories of mindbody interdependence, of holistic cooperative ecopolitics within every organ and cell, muscle and happy little ego-subsystem groaning out this profoundly universal Yes! with both LeftBrain audio-visual Eros and RightBrain universally interdependent neural-sensory climate of Agape. I didn't know what to say to this bicameral-sexual therapy. But, if this is an option for how to die, it does sound like the only good one I have ever heard. So I said that. And then my mentor suggested I go home and practice living that same way. Interesting, how orgasms struggle through rhapsodic time while dying struggles against too-fast competing time.