Is there life?

Will I know about it?

I was having a quiet drink with mi amica bella last week and she asked me a question I have not thought about in a very long time. What happens to us after we die? At the time, I think I dismissed it with some flippant comment or other and turned back to the important business of drinking, determined to give it no more thought. However, over the weekend, I received and email from my gorgeous friend letting me know that her 5 month old niece had lost her battle and passed away on Friday night. It really got me thinking about what "it" all means. Many hours of soul-searching once again led me to the same conclusion I usually reach when I ponder these matters. While I would love to embrace the faith of my more devout brethren, I believe the answer is inconceivable. By that I mean this corporeal form I wear is incapable of knowing. So I fall back on the only position I know, and deal with the only existence I am capable of dealing with. Now. If I behave in what others deem an acceptable manner, it is because it feels right for me to do it. Now. Not in the hope of reward or the fear of retribution when my body rots, but because it is right, now. Deep down, I do hope that after I pass from this place my next step will be a joyful and peaceful one, but I cannot act based on doctrines or dogma that have been handed to me. I have learned that my ideals and values are just as worthy as everyone elses. I have learned to be silent and listen and trust in my self.

No alternative makes sense to me.