This commentary is by Bob Stannard of Manchester Center. He is an author, musician and former state legislator and lobbyist.“That is the definition of faith ― acceptance of that which we imagine to be true, that which we cannot prove.” — Dan Brown, “The Da Vinci Code” “No one here gets out alive.” — Jim Morrison, “Five to One”As I get older it’s really hard to not think about dying. What’s the exit plan for this adventure? Will it be like racing through an airport and just making the plane, or will it be more like an agonizing 25-hour layover? And when you finally board, what’s that flight going to be like? Will it be a smooth ride off into the clouds or perhaps an overabundance of turbulence?The fact is that I don’t know, you don’t know, nobody knows. We’ve been told forever that there’s a heaven and there’s a hell. If you’re a good person you go to heaven. If not you end up in Hades for all eternity.Like many of you I spent my early days going to church. At the age of 14 I was confirmed at the United Church of Christ in Dorset. The Sunday following my confirmation my dad, who was a deacon of the church, asked me if I’d be attending church that day. It was June and the fish were biting. I said, “I don’t know, dad. I think I’d like to go fishing”. His reply was, “I don’t blame you.”It was one of those moments that did seem all that important at the time, but as the years have ticked by I realized that it might’ve been the most pivotal moment of my life; a life that’s been pretty darned full of pivotal moments.As a result of that one terse exchange with my dad (like most exchanges with dad) I never went back to church. I think it was because I’d rather be outdoors roaming the woods or sitting on the bank of the west branch of the Battenkill fishing. As time went on I came to realize that it was the woods that would serve as my church.The woods were my spiritual haven (or heaven). I spent a great deal of time wandering around Owl’s Head, Green Peak and Mother Myrick. Owl’s Head (or as some like to call it, Mt. Aeolus) was my go-to mountain. It’s a lovely bump on which to ponder on the maturations of life. At the age of 48, thanks to my recently deceased friend and sensei, Jon Bottomms, I entered the world of martial arts. From him I learned that martial arts is not so much about fighting (it’s not about fighting at all), as it is about learning to be aware. Not just aware of any physical danger, but to be aware of living… and dying. From him I learned that Tibetan monks would spend hours meditating on every conceivable way of dying. I can hear what you’re thinking: “This is really morbid”. Actually, it’s not. It can be quite comforting. The reason to do this was to show to an attacker that you could not be killed by them, because in your mind you were already dead. You have meditated on death. You have experienced death and therefore death is no more fearful than sitting in a chair. There is a 500-year-old saying that goes something like this. “When you step out of your house there are 10,000 attackers waiting for you.” Quite an idea, right? I spent many years thinking about this and meditating on every conceivable way to depart this life. I won’t go into the nearly infinite possibilities, but you get the picture. Once you experience dying through meditation the actual event becomes almost passé. You have already lived through dying, thus there is no real surprise, mystery or fear of death. We spend all of our time living and practically no time at all contemplating dying, which I do find to be quite amusing.We all die, but we really don’t like to talk about it much do we? What’s your final day going to be like? What happens when your body’s all done? Some believe, with no evidence whatsoever, that we go to some happy place and hang out with Elvis. Others pray that they don’t end up burning in hell for all eternity.No one, not one single person, has any idea what happens. Master escape artist Harry Houdini declared that if there was a way to come back he’d figure it out. We’re still waiting. We all believe what we want to believe and it doesn’t matter. What does matter is the fear of the unknown. It’s the fear that holds us back. It’s fear that allows us to be controlled by others; many of whom are driven by non-altruistic motives. Think about how different life might be if we could just overcome our fear of dying. It’s really not an impossible task. It only takes a little courage. Courage to wander off into the woods and meditate and imagine what your last day will be like. From there the rest is easy. Enjoy the ride and happy holidays. Read the story on VTDigger here: Bob Stannard: On death and dying.