Every day fell on the scales For or Against the verdict of doctors: "she's dying." More precisely, every morning when I'm half-asleep, listened intently to the mother's footsteps.

She got up early to cook me Breakfast. I steps to determine its health. I was 20, in the head did not fit the idea that soon it will disappear - still strong and even a burly-looking woman. And I'll stay. It will be necessary to continue life. One. Itself.

So every morning before waking I had decided the main question is still good enough or is it really bad?

the Illness was progressing at a snail's pace: two forward, one back. But developed. Hard and uncompromising. And mother "disappeared" every day, becoming physically smaller and smaller. And her personality is also decreased, as would more densely concentrated around the slimming body. It was hard to notice being inside of the situation. So hard to see that the child grows, as long as purchased in the autumn jacket is hopelessly small in the spring.

And at some point something prompted me to ask my mom "strange" question: and you were happy? I do not vouch for the wording and context, but the meaning was the same. The answer hit me in the heart. He still sounds in my ears. Hearing not so much the words as the intonation of a sudden landslide on the background of General weakness, hard, even pathetic.

She replied, "never!". With such a feeling like this — the main achievement of life. And it would be half the trouble: in the end, everyone has the right to choose, albeit unconsciously, the sense of his life suffering. Another thing is that to die with that realization she was really hurt. And it is a shame. And it especially hard. Although she bravely held. We can say, heroically. With honor was the last battle with fate. Lived in war and died as well. Another thing: with what and for what war?

Described occurred more than 25 years ago, when in the Arkhangelsk none of what psychotherapy is and never heard. However vtemyashilos then in my head thought: this can't be! Can not a man in the face of death to summarize all my (I must say, not the worst!) life the word "suffering"! Can't. If you do not want... Therefore, it is not a life and its perception. So I found out the meaning of the expression "picture of the world".

I could never be a psychologist, but stay them to continue in their attitude. And do not anyhow how, and, as it turned out, cognitive). But decided to deal with this topic thoroughly. And as soon as the circumstances of life are favorable, implemented the intention.

And now, as he said once anchor Voroshilov (and now repeats his son), the Lord connoisseurs, attention — the question: when it makes sense to think on the theme: "Who am I, what am I? What is the world around me? Who am I in this world? What am I doing with my life?", etc. - virtually a lifetime or posthumously? Respond immediately, to think no minutes, and help the club not provided!

I Know that the theme of the inevitability of death for men and taboo. And for good reason. There is a certain coping sense. You know what, looking with the inner eye in the horizon of your destiny, rather we expect to see scarlet sails than of the ship, which will go into a solo voyage in an unknown direction. And so sometimes the time allotted to dying, may be the most important and fruitful. Time real life, as paradoxical as it may sound. A time of reconciliation itself, with oneself and with the world (finally!). And well, if there is time.

But why wait for him? After all, and so every day inadvertently take the next step towards the point of no return.

Every day, I look in the mirror, I more and more see their reflection in my mother's traits. And I am glad, because I miss her. But it persistently returns to reality with a question: what am I willing to spend your life today? Many days prevailing in the year I spent in gloom and melancholy, as in the invisible prison, despite its outward appearance, a variety of achievements and numerous successes. Until then, while I caught up with insight (thanks to psychotherapy, which have come to Arkhangelsk): your debt suffering I already gave! From booolshoy percent! The mythical debt, unconsciously adopted at yourself with love, compassion and devotion! In memory of a loved one. And no one except me does not need...

Now I think about it not only sadness, but also with respect — I will not devalue the importance and necessity of a truly priceless experience. After all, the price which he paid, just immense. But at the time I decided don't want to anymore! And will not do it anymore.

If You are, despite the vicissitudes of fate, still want to have time to live in life, come to me. Work.