Wednesday, April 28, 2010

Excuse me Death

Is death the biggest party pooper in life?

Has the Prime Creeper, sorry the Grim Reaper overstepped his mark?

I re-read a book recently called The Master of Lucid Dreams by Olga Kharitidi (Russian psychiatrist meets shamanic experience).

For some reason I had forgotten an important chunk of it.

The gist of the unremembered part was that that, which we don't face in this life, comes a-knocking in the after life.

This freaked me out for awhile, for I have a confession to make - I have been guilty of filing things in the "Why bother, I'm not going to live forever" basket (or perhaps that should read 'casket').

After that I got to pondering on how the Grim Loiterer unmans us.

From what I can see the main dish on the Death Menu has been the one about 'eating, drinking & making (very short-term) merriment, for tomorrow ...

A Nouvelle Cuisine addition, (though made with the same ingredients), is the commandment to:

"Live like there's no tomorrow"

Now perhaps I'm being a bit cynical here, but I'm not completely convinced that finding out I 'd be doing daisy push ups tomorrow...

... would automatically lead me into heel kick ups today.

It's a very sad state of affairs when we have to be scared to death, in order to live.

My small point du jour is that perhaps it's all bollocks.

What if death is being marketed as a societal control factor? I have a feeling that, for the majority of us, each time death is cited we close down a little more.

Question: Do you really think 'death' is the primo ingredient in your daily media menu, just because it sells?

I have found that in order to create I need a great deal of time & freedom. I will go into this more in my upcoming article (which is currently requiring a great deal of time & freedom).

A quite long time ago I wrote an article called 'Kicking Death up the Arse'. In it, I mentioned the result of a wee mental experiment - that gist of it being that if I contemplated a lifetime of several thousand of years, instead of weeks, then I found a far greater connection with my life. I felt an amazing impetus to get off my ass, then & there, & begin that which I'd previously mentally lobbed into a future I didn't have much faith in.

I wonder if our estimated 70 something years, liberally sprinkled with daily media death, creates a sense of borrowed life - something that belongs not to us - like a library book or a rented car or home.

In order to connect & create in my life, I MUST feel that I belong or am a part of something, I must be allowed to make my mark & not simply spectate.

Ever noticed how much life has become a spectator sport?

My point in all this?

Well once I got over the scary idea of having to face the unfaced, I connected to the sense of extended life/afterlife. I wouldn't be handing my life over to something else, I would be continuing my travels. It was in that thought that I felt a deeper ownership of my life.

It seems there is so VERY little in this world that comes to aid us in living.

Those who seek to 'live' have to constantly travel via back roads & slippery paths, tripping over tree stumps & stumbling into brick walls. And all the way, travelling blind.

So if looking at something arse about face, creates another path through this mess, then I'll take it.