Reckoning The Path I Have Chosen

The funeral was today, and the service was typical of what some might expect for my part of the world. A lot of Bible verses and praying, a fine eulogy from my father (who was the eldest son), and some uplifting but sad music. It was no less or more than I expected...

When you see the world in ways the general populace does not, cannot, or will not see, you have a different view on the traditional end of things, and by traditional, I suppose I mean solemn occasions, or at least the ones we have made as such. As time drifted and listened to the words of the chaplain, my father, and others, I felt myself removed from the outpouring of sadness and emotion. Sure, I could be comforting, and was so, but I felt so distant, detached. And I am fairly close to most of my relatives, though some I had not seen in some time, but it was not like before, though this event was expected, not sudden and thrust upon me. I even felt more emotional when my grandfather died, even though I knew him far less than my grandmother. I suppose perhaps, like I mentioned in the prior post, I have accepted things as they are, and can perceive something of the unimagined that awaits.

As one who understands their path is to seek to understand, to learn why we are the universe made manifest, I know now why few try and understand such things and simply live their life without questioning. To step outside of mortality is to step outside of passion, joy, pain, and fear. In some ways, understanding makes one leave emotion behind. I have seen it in some philosophers and academics, and wonder if some of my passion, something I thought I really needed in my life, has been altered... become the desire for truth and knowledge. But where has love gone? Has it faded?

I stood dispassionately amid the sorrow and realised how lonely the path I have chosen truly must be.

C.

Illusion Of Mortality

On a personal note, my grandmother, after a terribly long struggle with clear-cell cancer (forgive me, but I forget the actual name of it) passed away yesterday. While, of course, I am sad at her passing, I cannot help but be relieved that she is no longer suffering, for she had basically wasted away to nothing in the end. If I am unable to get to everyone this week, I do apologise in advance, for dealing with the funeral plus having to go out of town later in the week will make it busier than normal. I suppose, in that, it is good.

While the events of the preceding day helped urge this post onward, I had been thinking about this for other reasons, especially with the reminders of mortality in my home, art and photographs mostly, but a pervasive sense of such things seem to creep around this place. Maybe even around me. I often wonder if the illusion is our mortality and what awaits is the real journey, not that this is insightful at all, since so many before me (and I am sure after as well) have their views on afterlives. My thought is the wonder if it is all the extension of the same life... no before, no after, just differing fragments of the same soul, and perhaps we are just not evolved enough or perceptive enough yet to discern or handle the actual reality. I think that some might be able to perceive a little of it, some of us (like me) can perhaps imagine it, or at least explain an imagining, and some are so connected they seek to get to that reality as quick as possible.

I think that mortality is comforting in a way, too. We know that whatever we have experienced here will end, at least in the way we conceive it. And for some that is simply the way it is and always will be. For some, they must have the darkness of hell or the wonder of heaven. Others are simply reborn, sleep, or fade into dust. Others move on and take the next step, maybe even a necessary step to a higher consciousness. So much in this universe is unexplained and unexplored. It would be a shame to waste the knowledge, the material on an illusion of finality. Now, this does not mean I am excited or looking forward to my transitional stage, for I know the heartache that would be left behind, but I am comfortable with the inevitable. I may not be able to understand all aspects of the journeys I have undertaken beyond anything but fragments of dreams of worlds forgotten, but I still have time (as we understand it) perhaps to seek to understand, as I have always tried to do, or have done :)

C.