Drowning in the Sea...

Last night I had a couple of really strange dreams. I think the first one might have been triggered by reading Peter Clothier's posts over the past few days about dealing with death. Both of the dreams I had involved overwhelming amounts of water and both involved people I haven't seen in a while but miss.

The first dream was about Lindsey. I know it's somewhat revealing and I don't normally talk about my relationships on my blog, but we broke up a couple of months ago and I feel like I'm just recently starting to deal with it, which is why she's been showing up in my dreams. We were running around in some ocean bay, but it was like a floating city. In order to get to each different part of the city, you had to navigate these tiny little floating bridges which were riddled with shark-like creatures. We always seemed to make it across, but whenever we'd get anywhere people were always wondering what we were doing together. That's all I really remember about that one. It was kinda random.

The second dream has been really affecting me all day. I dreamed that my whole family was on this huge ship. It felt something like an oil tanker on the outside, but the inside was very luxurious and homey. While we were out at sea, there was a huge hurricane which was inevitably going to consume us all. My dad was there on the inside, and he kept saying things like, "I've had a full life and I'm just going to stay on this ship. I want the whole family to die together, so we all need to stay on the boat." When he said that, I remember crying. Have you ever had those experiences where you are crying in a dream, but it feels so real that you're almost positive you're actually lying in your bed crying in real life? That's what it felt like. I remember replying to dad by saying things like, "I haven't had that life yet! I want to get married! I want to raise my children someday!" And this I remember distinctly: I remember saying, "I want your life, dad!" And now that I'm awake and think about it, it makes sense

I want to be secure in myself, to have a lovely wife with whom I share a loving and trusting relationship, raise wonderful children, have my own home with a yard to mow, have a career, etc. I want all the things my father has had. It was a strange dream and I don't quite know what to do with it all. I suppose I just wanted to get it off of my chest. I'm not ready to die, and I know it.

Euthanasia and ethics in practice...

Today I had a really interesting experience. It started with coming home from work and feeling mentally exhausted, so I thought I'd try to get in some light meditation just to calm down. I didn't really want to do it on my back porch like I usually do because it was rather noisy around my neighborhood this time of day, so I got on my bike and went to my favorite secluded pond in the back woods a little bit. That's where things got a little weird.

I walked around the shoreline of this pond (almost big enough to be a lake) just to get some mud between my toes and relax my heart rate a little bit after the bike ride there. In the water I noticed one unusually huge largemouth bass floating on the surface. It looked a little torn up and wasn't moving, so I just assumed it was dead. No big deal. Fish die in lakes all the time. Granted, this was a huge fish (about two feet long, which is a ginormous bass), but a fairly regular occurance. Just when I was about to get into my meditation position, the fish flopped. Weird....

I watched for a few minutes as this bass sporadically flopped in the water, obviously suffering from some massive injury and getting ready to die. It really bothered me. Should I just watch this fish suffer? Should I kill it and put it out of its misery? If I were the fish, what would I want done to me? I pondered for about ten minutes, pacing the shoreline. Eventually, I came to a conclusion. I'm not sure whether it was right or not, but I made a decision.

I waded into the water and grabbed this giant fish. I stared it in the eyes for a little bit and then set it on the dock to die. I couldn't gather the courage to crush it and kill it myself, but I figured I'd speed up the process and end its suffering. The way I saw it, it was an act of compassion to help kill this fish. It was going to die either way. One way it was slow and terrible, the other it was over in a couple of minutes.

After discussion with Lindsey, I realized something that I think is important. While I was pacing and thinking about what to do, I wanted to make sure that I whatever I did (or didn't do, as would be the case had I left the fish to its own misery), I had thought it out. I didn't want to leave the fish alone just because I didn't know what to do. I made a decision on purpose, which I think is part of the intrigue for me. For me, not making a decision at all is just as bad as making the wrong decision, but I could very well be wrong. I'm not enlightened. Thoughts?

I don't know. I just thought I'd share it with you guys and maybe open up some interesting discussion and hear some other points of view on a matter like this. What do you all think? Is it okay to aid in the death of something suffering or am I going to be a largemouth bass for the next fifty lifetimes?