Somewhere along the journey, we were told a force greater than ourselves promised us something pure beyond our greatest imagination.
Is that true to say? That somewhere along the line, whether your mother, or teacher, or priest told you there was something way greater in life than what we see before us.
But truly, what did they mean when they said that?
And where is this “something pure beyond our greatest imagination”? Where do you find that? In the present moment or something?
There is something about being ambivalent to the greatness of our own lives, this “something” we are told to define our whole lives, but often have trouble defining it. The struggle comes from defining it. And in moments when I have trouble defining this “something” that I am living for, I am so inevitable faced with thinking about my own death. That one day this is going to end.
Are you comfortable with death? With dying, with all of this just ending?
I’m not, or at least I wasn’t, and somewhere along the journey of today, I was.
I became comfortable with death.
Astronauts have said from the surface of the earth, they realize how special we are. They explain the darkness of space like a darkness one has never known. It just goes on forever. From all the searching we have done in the universe, we have yet to truly confirm the existence of other life, any life really.
Our lives on this planet are so precious. So rare and plentiful on an island planet far from any other traces of life.
So small, but so many of us.
So insignificant, but covering a planet that teems with life.
So magnificent, a hidden gem in the universe.
Embracing the present moment of being alive, of celebrating in the life of spring, and peacefully surrendering to our inevitable deaths is truly what produces this profound amazement we all have this planet, to go out and conquer the next planet (Mars). To keep conquering, to keep moving, to keep expanding. We are one living organism living for the continuation of our survival, and when you think about being a human in that sense, it brings a tremendous amount of weight on all our shoulders.
We must consistently think of our life as a Mandala, the sand portraits Buddhist monks spend weeks building. Once the Mandala is finished, after intense detail and hours and hours of work, the monks just sweep the dust away.
I often wonder why put the effort into any of it at all, and then I think of these Mandalas and it reminds me of how insignificant but meaningful life can be.