Found this piece of writing

and thought I’d share it with you 🙂 I wrote it late last year (when we had to write about ‘a perfect world) and then saved it in some obscure place on my laptop, which I have just discovered. I was pretty pleased with it, but now…myeah…not so sure. I think the whole ‘fate’ thing isn’t very me. But there we go, let me know what you think 🙂

Death beckons. The line that has drawn me through the mishmash of moments that make up my life grows shorter as I near my destination, reeling me in. I accept it now; accept the fate that we are all born into. Born to live, born to die; it doesn’t get any simpler than that. A sense of completion overwhelms me and the long-feared moment shines, in a way I could never have imagined. Suddenly everything is brighter – the bed, the desk, you above me – so bright it is blinding. Closing my eyes, I appreciate the darkness. I, who was always afraid of the shadows that follow, I who actively seek the sun, I embrace the blackness that engulfs me, threading it through my fingers, feeling it brush against my cheeks. This, I realise, this softness that is all I can see and touch, is death. And she is beautiful.

Now, only as her caress slowly tightens, I see the world in the way I have always dreamed of. I see the perfection that every being crawling the surface of this globe searches for, when every moment, every glance and touch and laugh and word suddenly seems to fit together, the final puzzle piece clawed from under the threadbare sofa at the last minute. My last minute, and yet it lasts a lifetime. And in that lifetime I see that all the striving, all the effort that filled every single second of my life; that was perfection.

It’s not the destination, hurtling towards me, that fills me with elation. It is the journey, the way that I did not even realise I travelled, every decision and revision fitting into place along the path set out for me. Every life, every journey in itself is a perfect world, however imperfect it may outwardly appear. Everyone has a path that they follow, a pre-planned route. Only plans don’t always work out, some of us like to take short-cuts, change plans at the last minute. Well, there’s always one.

I see all this, death circling around me, closing in and stepping back, anticipating my next movement.

Will you won’t you, will you won’t you, won’t you join the dance? She is singing, singing and circling, and my epiphany passes as the whispering fingers of death reach out once more for my hand. I have seen perfection. I have lived perfection. And now, as I begin to step in time, one step forward, two steps back, I have only the slightest twinge of sadness. To leave this is a big step, for what can possibly follow perfection?

And so we dance the dance of life, never certain of how it will end, making up the steps as we go along. Welcome to perfection, my friend. May I have this dance?

And on that note – adieu