Bhutan is renowned for being a happy place. It is interesting that one of the contributing factors in a positive outlook is the practice of contemplating death more frequently than dentists brush their teeth. Five times a day, people hover their attention on the finite quality of this existence, and it recalibrates them. 

 

I watched a show in which a hard driven politician has a heart attack. In the days following he was softer. Kinder. A brush with death changed his priorities. But it didn't last. Which is probably why the Bhutanese culture encourages more frequent doses of revisiting mortality. 

 

When John's family used to play Monopoly they took it seriously. The banker monitored cash with diligence, and there was no margin for forgiving rent. I can rekindle the feeling of being immersed in a game with my siblings, falling for the illusion that it is Real. That winning is paramount. 

 

As an adult, John has a different stance. He likes to say that all the money goes back in the box after the game. When I am anxious about a larger than predicted bill, that catchphrase reins me back from the edge. This life too, is something of a game. We are given a chance to grow, and accrue character traits like cardboard deeds. But when we die no one will remember who owned Park Place. They will recall if we were generous. 

 

A friend mentioned that a classmate had splurged for their fiftieth reunion. She pulled all the stops, springing for hotel rooms for everyone overlooking the water. All expenses were covered, and the life long companions enjoyed conversations and laughter over good food. Being in their late seventies they went to bed early. Perhaps the magnanimous giver was staring into the dark face of her own mortality, and chose to celebrate. 

 

This weekend is the pinnacle of death vs life for the Christian world. There is a vast ocean between the grief of the crucifixion and the elation of resurrection. Maybe I can bring such news to mind five times today. Even better, I could choose to act on it.