The Snowfield – I

Reflections on dying from the relative safety of middle age.

The Snowfield

I imagine myself passing away in a wood and bamboo room at a mountain-top monastery. I’m not sure how or when I get up there, but something significant will have to happen and fairly soon because the years are starting to click by now. Anyhow, it’s all very cinematic. Very Eastern.

In my ever so simple mountain monastery room, I leave behind…