Little Lights

When the worst things imaginable happen, the most unlikely people sprout wings and feathers. When Scott’s father began his downward spiral the hidden angels who were always quietly standing there stood up, came forward, gently shrugged and unfurled their wings and surrounded us with understanding, solace, and light.

Losing someone like this is a box of broken glass. Each movement, each discovery, the memories and reminders are fresh and sharp and each one is a shooting agony. There are blessings that surround us. I am most thankful that I was able to deliver Scott in time for him to take advantage of what remaining lucidity remained at his fathers command and that we were all able to say goodbye.

The emotional hurricane peaked at 11:45 when Scott’s Father passed on. The storm built, it came, and it passed leaving the survivors stunned and numb. Saying goodbye, especially in this situation is one of life’s most unpleasant knots. Nobody wanted to let go and nobody wanted to let the suffering rage on. It’s an unloving chain, sickness, debilitation, and suffering. All rushing headlong into something everyone knows is coming, nobody wants to face, and once it arrives, nobody truly can cope with adequately. Losing someone this central, this important can only be assuaged by the flow of time.

I am here to support Scott in his time of need. His and his families loss has left a Daniel-shaped hole behind and I’ve witnessed their coping. Through their loss and the emotional turmoil I find myself preoccupied with helping them cope and through that, naturally extending this fragile emotion through time and looking what is to come.

It isn’t until you lose a father-figure that you realize you had one all along. I have two more. Love, as I described it while consoling earlier today, is both the most compelling blessing and the worlds most horrendous curse. Expressing this emotion is something we all really should do as often as we can, to bask in the blessing before the curse of loss sets in. There are more fathers to lose, and I found myself dreading what is to come.

For Norm, I didn’t grow up with him as a father but he truly is a father to me. I will share his loss with his natural children and I’ll be on treaded ground. The real emotional pain comes when you have deferred telling your loved ones that you love them because they aren’t going anywhere, what’s the rush? Until they are gone and the words ring out in hollow space and the only comfort is the wellspring of your faith. Telling them that you love them, especially between sons and fathers is something that everyone wishes they could do much more of, but end up with the knowledge of the love and watching a mussy emotion transfigured into respect.

For Joseph, that’s a wholly different matter. I am my fathers only son. I was a spectator for Daniel, I am a player for Norm, but for Joseph I am more. In many respects I’m going to be very alone with my father when he passes on. The thing that hurts the most is that the love I have for him is the most understood and the most rendered-respect. There won’t be any regret for any of my fathers, but I do know that this was the easiest for me, and if this was hell, the others I can only imagine.

It boils down to Love. Do you love them enough to honor and cherish them when they are alive? If so, then that Love carries on through death and enables you to let them go. Loving someone enough to want to keep them countered with loving them enough to beg mercy on their behalf and celebrating their lives and the blazing glory of their passing. Love is both a blessing and a curse, and I wouldn’t be shocked in the least to discover that the entire Universes purpose is to explore Love. Love makes the world go round.

On Death and Dying

My experience with Death is limited to the loss of both my paternal and maternal grandmothers. I have stood witness to their passing as well as the ramifications that sprang from those events.

Both of their passing, and my curious individualistic faith has formed the basis for my perceptions and thoughts about death and dying. I lost my Christian faith many years ago. I was raised as a Christian protestant, in the Presbyterian tradition, but I have developed my own unique viewpoints as I have lived my life and experienced it.

There is no real death in this world. The death that we know is one integral step we must take on our path. Each life is filled with steps, and they all lead somewhere, we are born, we grow up, we lead our lives, and eventually we die. I approach death both with metaphors and metaphysics. My metaphorical approach to death is the bowling analogy. Life is like a game of bowling: the shoes to rent, the ball to fondle, the lane to look down and goals to reach. Our lives are lead as the bowl hurdles down the alley, precariously streaking along a certain path, never one we think we selected but the path that was meant for us, one that could reach the pins or reach the gutter. When the ball strikes the pins, we die. While the pins knock over, they do not stop existing, they are gathered up, reassembled, and the ball is returned for another game. We are the pins, we are the ball, our death is when the ball strikes the pins and the gathering up and reassembly is the job of God.

When our lives end, when the ball strikes the pins, we do not simply cease to exist. There is a part of us, the part of us that is aware of awareness. It’s more than simply our consciousness, as consciousness fits within the crib of our sentience, it is the part of us that is just as permanent as the rest of the surrounding Universe. This part is our soul. When we die, the soul is released from the body but it does not just evaporate into nothingness. The soul is purpose. The soul is both the selector of the path and the path itself.  In each of our lives our souls are driven to experience a certain path, and we take that path whether we are conscious of it or not. For most people, they remain asleep to their souls and consider the events of their lives to be chaotic and random. Other people who are on the path of awakening to enlightenment understand how their live is structured and respect and have faith in the path.

This touches upon Good and Evil. The path selected is a means unto itself. People attribute valuations of “Good” and “Evil” to explain events that defy logical or rational description. It is because the consciousness cannot apprehend true reality that we are lead to make this fundamental attribution error. We don’t know, and without any further proof to the contrary we affix a label to events, calling them “Good” or “Evil”. Then we rail at a God who allows “Evil” into our world. In each situation the “Evil” serves a purpose that we cannot apprehend with consciousness. There is no real “Good” or “Evil”. There are only souls being and making paths for our bodies to follow from lifetime to lifetime. Death is not “Evil”. Death is merely a part of the path, one step that leads to another. It is pointless to upset oneself over “Good” versus “Evil” as any upset to a souls path never is permanent, the soul will select a path to follow that it must, irrespective of free will to the contrary.

The matter of enlightenment still remains. When consciousness awakens and expands it can break free from Maya, the illusion of reality, and catch glimpses of the reality the soul exists in. The rewards of awakening are immediate: you can catch a sense to your path, you are filled with the serenity of knowing you are where you are supposed to be and that you are doing what you are meant to be doing. That you are on the path, your path. I can only imagine that when a person achieves true enlightenment, true awakening, their consciousness has a full view of their souls, an incredible thing to contemplate.

I also approach death analytically. I see the body as a very fragile yet exceptionally complicated tuner. When we are born, we don’t have the biological complexity required to fully ‘tune in on’ our souls, so from birth to about 3 years old we are wholly indistinguishable from our nearest evolutionary progenitors, the chimpanzees. After our 3rd year, our bodies show enough raw complexity that tuning the souls attached to our bodies can begin. This tuning goes on throughout life, constantly getting more and more refined. The soul uses the body at that point, it’s a type of symbiosis. As we age the soul begins to dominate the relationship. Our bodies aren’t immortal, they were never meant to be. They have accidents, become damaged, and erode. When the body is damaged or begins to die, the soul begins to depart the body. Death is not a pinnacle moment, it is a process – we call it dying and when people are dying, their souls gently slide out of tune with their bodies. Considering everything, this is quite possibly the most merciful part of life, especially when the body is trapped in extreme suffering. When I saw my loved ones progressing along the route of the dying I have seen this ‘tuning out’ for myself. The soul moves on, it cannot die because it is not physical – it is energetic. I have seen my loved ones alive and animate, and I have seen their bodies dead and inanimate. The dead bodies closely resemble my loved ones, but they appear different, without the spark of the soul, the body is just a shell. The connection of the soul to the body actually looks like something, when the soul is gone, you know it, when the soul is departing, you can see it go.

Death is not the end. Death is a step, a transformation, the soul released so it can discover a new body. It has been my experience that souls do not flit about like fireflies, but rather tend to ‘flock’ together with other souls. From lifetime to lifetime through reincarnation each of our souls touch each other over and over. The roles, the genders, the relationships, they are always in flux, but the souls always find ways to be reborn together, to ‘flock’ together, if not by selecting bodies that are near each other, they arrange the path to bring the bodies together over and over. Our human drama plays out over and over, we dance with the same people we’ve always danced with, from lifetime to lifetime.

So then what is the purpose of it all? Christians believe that death is the route to the afterlife. A place of perfection and perfect happiness. My experiences, even my past-life memories which I do have possession of, indicate to me that the afterlife is not the destination. It may be ‘a’ destination for some, but at least not for me and the souls that I recognize in this lifetime. I think instead that the purpose of life is experience. That souls enjoy Maya, they enjoy the challenge, the struggle and in some ways they enjoy the suffering. I believe it to be more a matter of a fascination with experience, the new situations and the learning that drives life.

If death isn’t the end of existence and souls are born together over and over again, then there is absolutely nothing to fear and death should be regarded as just another adventure in living. It is a natural and unavoidable destination for the body and a chance for your soul to continue on to find new ways and new experiences. It shouldn’t be full of sorrow, it should be a celebration of a life lived well. Paths selected, existence experienced, love enjoyed.