Death. That sweet sorrowful dance that takes us away to another place and time. We fear it as it is the only thing we pursue without certainty. We rush towards it to taunt and play with it’s true intentions. The only thing that it knows is to seek and carry away to parts and places unknown. To places our mind can’t fathom. Who is to say that living is the reward for dying. Or is dying the reward for living.
One only has to consider the sweet sorrowful loss of a child. So innocent. So sweet. Some never know the feeling of the air filling their lungs as their life never transpired as they are rocked for the first time in the arms of their parents. You see the journey of life was never about the child conceived in the womb. It was what was to come in the aftermath. The lesson and the storey that was meant to inspire and reach the rest of the World. Any child who is never granted the opportunity to live a life as promised was meant to teach instead. No life is for nothing. No matter how tiny or small.
We can’t fear death. Death as the unknown and uncertainty will only harbour negative thoughts and energy. The more negative the more intense the powerful energy that will rot and corrupt your soul. We like to fixate on the pain. We as humans are sadomasochists. Even I am. As pure as my intentions are my happiness still wanes. I have tried to come up with every excuse why a relationship devoid of physical intimacy makes any sense. One only has to look through the eyes of a child to understand why this doesn’t make sense. I don’t want my son to follow in my foot steps. I don’t want my son to accept a life that is just mediocre when there can be so much more. I thought my biggest worry was molding and sculpting his beautiful eager mind. Now I have to truly consider every action he does he mimics. What I do he wants to do so I have to find a way to show my son that human touch is important. Human touch gives us the power to heal ourselves and each other in times when the rest of the World has gone mad. Human touch is the one thing we long for when death intervenes.
To show you how strange our thoughts can be I will tell you something I often think about. I have never expressed this thought to anybody as when said out loud it does seem so entitled and privileged that I had to remove it from my life completely. When I used to get caught up in the ways of romantic/suspense drama. I am talking about the OC, Gossip Girl, 90210. I was either a homebody or a party girl there was really no in between for the two. I would binge watch these shows in my depression. The characters becoming my friends and bringing me out of my funk. I would never watch the last episode. I never wanted it to end. Then I had the thought as I was driving that if I died right now I would never know the ending. What if I died without knowing if Chuck and Blaire ended up together or how terrible the last season of the OC would be (why they tried a season without Marissa is beyond me). Imagine. My thoughts moved to those superficial characters and not the real ones in front of me.
If I was going to be strange I didn’t want to be like that. I would rather lose myself in the historical passion of the life’s already lived. When you sit and devour our historical framework your eyes begin to open. You see everything so different. There lives were ridiculed with poverty and disease. They fought these brutal wars dying at each other’s own hands. It was computers are lasers or whatever it is we are using. This was hand to hand combat where EVERYBODY was your enemy. So much death. So many lives taken far too soon. Those lives that mean nothing to us now meant so much to somebody back then. Instead of increasing our kindness and compassion we have developed new ways to distance ourselves and isolate trying to convince ourselves of anything but. Every life has a purpose a reason. It is maybe not up to us decide what that means or how it looks like to them. Maybe it is only up to us to interpret our own life lessons and passions on our own.
To think back to some of the most painful moments of my life I can see now. I see the purpose of those events happening in order to get me to where I am now. At the time of those great depressions I wish I trusted myself more. I wish that I would have known somehow that the fine thread of my life that was interwoven into the finite of existence of being that everything would manifest in a way that it was meant to. That although it was hard to see the silver lining of the storm clouds there would be something to learn from one day. With so much uncertainty of all of our futures it is pretty hard to develop the mentality of living each day, day to day. In one sense it is complete ignorant to keep one informed on a need to know basis but I don’t want to live with so much manic and fear. If this is the end of it all and death will soon be knocking on each of our door how would I want the last days to be. It’s not like a can be reckless with living with taunting death to take me now it’s the opposite. I live each day like it may be my last. Yes my freedom is now compromised in the sense that I can’t leave my house. This was the ideal though right? We can only help those in the capacity that is handed down to us in this moment. We have very little freedom as we are only allowed to leave our house for essential items only.
So rather than let my melancholy take me I will still dress for the life I want. They say when you are looking for a positive change in your life to get up each day with purpose and intention. My purpose and intention is to still love each and every one of you. Now that the distance is greater it is even more important for my to step forward. Like a phoenix rising from the embers I promise to help each and every one of you start each day with purpose and intention. Death can no longer over take us if we stop being guided by fear.