Wednesday, 13 October 2010

104 Days Between The Bed And The Door

Dad sat staring into space; he had been diagnosed with 'that lung cancer'- The one with the long name that begins with the letter 'M' that’s awkward to pronounce - the incurable, unforgiving kind that rips through the body like a black tornado.

I rushed over and knelt beside him, resting my head against his, and cried. I seemed to be under the false impression that cancer was something that only happens to other people.

From the time Dad was diagnosed with 'that lung cancer' to the moment he took his last breath, his ramble here on earth lasted 104 days. Then I blinked, and he was gone.

The second we are born the journey to death begins. How much time we have and more importantly how much living we do in the time we have will vary from person to person.

I often wonder how Dad lived with dying.

So today I ask myself a question.

What if I had 104 days left to live on Planet Earth? How different would my life look?

The purpose of writing this blog is to spend the next 104 days of my life. consciously exploring the space between the bed and the door. ( The space between the bed and the door is the spot where I sit each morning in stillness.) That’s 2496 hours or 149760 minutes or 8985600 seconds left to live each moment like it's my last, rediscover what makes my heart sing, and shine my light.

I won't be the first to attempt this experiment, and neither will I be the last.

Theres no time to waste...

Let the experiment in conscious dying begin ...



  1. Wow, Nige. This is brilliant. I'm loving this idea & think i need to explore it myself & maybe pull Brooke in with me. ! I've got those sweet little chills that come when i stumble across something that speaks to that deeper place in me.

    104 days...Hmmm.

    I so look forward to seeing how this unfolds for you. Beautifully, i'm sure.

    Thank you so much for visiting my blog today & leaving your words much wisdom. I have been feeling the pull to sit in silence more and more, but, as i expressed on my blog, i so often resist. You've inspired me to listen.

    Thank you for you. You are a treasure.

  2. Dear Nige,

    This speaks so deeply to me. I can't even quite put it into words. I feel it deep down in the part of me that would choose always to unite with other souls into oneness, to look at this death thing as something so insignificant to our experience, but our connectedness as everything.

    Julia and I were talking about doing some kind of marathon--or mind-athon, as she renamed it, where we would turn every thought around to love--just open our eyes a little more in those moments when we are possessed.

    I am there with you. Consider me holding that space with you, between door and bed, gently for you, for me, for all of us.