Aleph

I always wondered if there is in real life, alike in the movies, that moment right before one’s death, when their entire life crosses in front of their eyes. Is it possible for our brain to defy time, gravity, Physics, and all the Einsteins, and Newtons, and others of their kind? As you can see, I haven’t died — thankfully! — but something happened the other night, and now I can assure you the answer is yes.
I was awakening from my evening nap, and it happened right on that instant when I was getting out of my dreams and back to reality. I’m not sure if I was wide awake, or still dreaming; if my eyes were open or closed; if that wall was there all the time and I saw everything printed in it, or it just began to exist when I came out of my dream. But I don’t think this really matters, after all how can one ever be sure of what is real, what is dream? What matters is what I saw, and now I’ll give you an account of it.
I say the streets of every city, loud and crowded, with their several bars, pubs, and restaurants; then I saw the cafés in the world, the ones I’ve been too, and I saw the funny, or philosophical, or stupid moments I had there with friends, and I realized that my life also can be somehow measured in coffee spoons; Then I saw my mom as she looked two years ago, the time I had last seen her; then I saw what she was doing in that present moment, and I felt relieved, because she looked fine; and I saw that she does wait for my calls, and that she has gained wrinkles around her eyes, and that her eyes too, sometimes get teary for no apparent reason; and I saw Clarice Lispector, Kundera, and Saramago; and all the pages of the journals that have been written inspired by them; and I saw my first kiss, in the park, and how I hated it; and I saw all the others that came after that, and crazy as it might sound, I even saw how they tasted: apple, beer, cigarettes, grape, mint, wine, red bull, watermelon, coffee, chocolate…And I saw that orange-blue-purple sunrise at the beach — the one that I cherish and treasure — in the night we decide that we would catch the sunset and the sunrise together; it made me happy when I noticed that my memory had been able to keep intact each detail of it; and I saw my guitar, and all the songs that I’ve played; and the ones that I’ve attempted to; and I saw me and my best friend, jamming, drinking beer and eating chocolate; and I also saw you, and where you are going to be in three minutes, and in three days, and in three years; I saw the moments when you are hateful and despicable and also the ones when you magnificent; and I saw all the people in the world, yellow, brown, black, white, they all stared directly at me, and some accused me with their gaze, and although I am not sure of what, I know, by the certainty in their eyes, that they were right; and I saw all the kids that were being born, their brand-new souls still free from all the doubts, all the trouble; and also saw their moms, all utterly hopeful against all the odds. And it perplexed me that I could see the entire world but I was not able to decide if I should be happy or sad for them. Then, I saw myself: no adorn, no pretension, no secrets, I truly SAW MYSELF; and that was the most astonishing of it all.
Now, you might want to know how you can do it too, see it all. I can tell you, but I have to warn you first: life is not the same after it, after you’ve seen everything that there will ever be to be seen. Think: there might be a good reason why for most people it just happens, if it happens, in the last instant, right before their death.