And what do you live for?
I have been watching Tudors, the story of Henry VIII. It is a bit much, but engaging at the same time. Let’s just say I am hooked.
Two men die for their beliefs. Two men die for their soul.
As I watched, this question found a light in me: What am I willing to die for?
I have habits that might kill me.
But I think I will live a long life. I have little experience with death, but I have to learn and I think I will learn by outliving my peers.
My parents are going to be 87. I cannot reckon with the grief or loss of losing them, yet know I must lose them to this plane of reality.
And I believe from the bottom of my heart we all go into the light.
But when I think of not talking to my dad whenever I want, I cry. Dad is not willing to die.
Are you willing to die? Are you willing to die for your beliefs? Are you willing to die for your country? Would you offer your life for another’s?
Some folks go to war voluntarily. They are young but I think they must be young to be willing. They must either have ideals beyond what I can imagine or a need that drives them.
A friend said life is preparing for a peaceful death and with the awareness of impermanence, we see death every moment.
But with death there is birth.
Every second passes and dies but there’s another.
Some people believe humanity is worse off today than in the past. The planet is in trouble; the values skewed.
This is not the first time, nor the last.
The Universe is expanding, growing.
We are all growing, in one way or another. Our growth might be our waistline. Our growth might be in what we accumulate. Our growth might be finding more peace and joy in every moment. Our growth might be in prayer or meditation. We might be mastering yoga poses. We might write poetry or dance or collect what is beautiful.
We might die every day on the inside as we get up and go to that job that is devouring our spirit because we cannot give from our heart, because there is no creativity or self-expression, because the game of politics to survive on the outside makes us compromise on the inside.
How many are dying each day like that? How many die for belief?
I am not talking the craziness of political suicides.
I think suicide by its very nature means the schism between self and life breaks.
I cherish life.
I love what I do: teaching and writing.
What do you do to live each day? What are you willing to die for in this life time?
To be honest, I don’t think I am willing to die for anything. Oh, I would give a kidney to someone I loved and more, if needed.
I don’t want to see death in every moment. I like to see impermanence and change as a constant birthing process—nothing stays the same and yet so little truly changes.
Yes, humanity has evolved.
The paradigm I embrace keeps the garden thriving and the gate open so you can leave and you can come home.
When I pray I say the traditional Our Father prayer because it comforts me. But I could say Our Mother…I could simply chant but I don’t.
I rarely went to church as a kid and not as an adult; I prefer it when no one is there, then I can feel the presence I long to find.
What am I willing to die for? I think the real question is what I am willing to do to live as fully as possible every moment of every day?
Can I keep learning to let go of fear? Every moment I try to let it go because every moment my body holds fear.
I believe in love. I believe in the inherent goodness of others and humanity. I believe we need to look at what we can give, how we can celebrate light and earth, how we can meet peace even when life throws curve balls and loss is a best friend.
For with every loss there is gain.
My heart grows wider, deeper and holds more in letting loss be part of it. In letting loss be part of me, I let it go and let what it leaves plant seeds to grow.
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Ed: Brianna Bemel
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July’s Full Moon in Capricorn: The Heart wants what it Wants. The 4 Stages of a Good Divorce. Our Soulmates are Rarely Who We Expect. A Letter to my Children: You do not come from a Broken Home. Men, Let’s Stop Fooling Ourselves: Size Matters. To the One Who Tried to Break Me. An Open Letter to the Fixers. Mom, can I Call her Mom, Too? How your Stored Memories in the Amygdala can lead to PTSD. Jon Stewart makes first appearance since retiring—”it’s not your country.”