On Death and Dying

It has gotten quite chilly today, I had to sit in the car for ten minutes before I could drive it as there was this thin layer of ice/frost on the windshield and the back windows... and the door handles were jammed too by frost. Driving so far has been fun, it saves time, and I enjoy the feeling of freedom that it offers... although I must confess I am not the best driver out there, I definitely do a lot of stupid little things. I thank whoever is watching over me... you know, sometimes I just have the feeling that I have a guardian angel of some sort. When I look back at my life, I recall many incidences in which my life could have ended in seconds but didn't. If I have the chance to meet my guardian, I would like to ask it/him/her "was I worth it?"...

What does each extra moment given mean? Why was I saved from all those near death experiences? As I sat and ponder these questions, I came to realize that I no longer held onto the believe there exists such thing as pre-mature death. Sounds strange, but for some reason, I have come to the conclusion that Death makes no mistakes, that what we consider a pre-mature/dying of un-natural cause is not really as untimely as we think it is. I think each death, just as each life, has a purpose, a meaning, a reason. One which we may never comprehend. A child dying of a disease, a youth/adult/genius brought down in their prime, even deaths of natural disaster and/or violence is not as sudden and unexpected if we step back and acknowledge that in the grand schema of things it has to happen one way or another. So now we are stuck with the question of how we deal with it.

It is no longer a problem of "if we die" but a question of "when I die". When you are done, you are done, that is it. So what does all this living mean? Determinists may look upon this as evidence that we are damned from the beginning, that at any given point in time, we are provided with a or multiple false choice(s), and one forced choice until we are eventually led to conclude our lives in one final foot-stop or period. Yet, I choose to see this ephemeral existence as an exemplary of where free will is definitely important. Given the limitations that is life in its evanescent form, our life choices are given more weight... and it is within these very boundaries of our metaphysical restraints that we found the unlimited possibilities of how we can choose to change our "process outcome", and make our living moment more meaningful. From the movie of Legend of 1900 came the following quote
"Take a piano. The keys begin, the keys end. You know there are eighty-eight of them, nobody can tell you any different. They are not infinite. You are infinite. And on these keys the music that you can make is infinite. I like that. That I can live by.
You get me up on that gangway and you're rolling out in front of me a keyboard of millions of keys, millions and billions of keys that never end, and that's the truth, Max. That they never end. That keyboard is infinite. And if that keyboard is infinite, then on that keyboard there is no music you can play. You're sitting on the wrong bench. That's God's piano. "
Our lives is very much a music score awaiting to be written, we must first comply to the regulations of tonal theory, establishing a key in which we choose to orchestra our master-piece. We will then follow a certain time signature, setting up "milestones" in form of bars in which we fit in certain number of notes and beats. We will have to end the piece... or we can live it like an "Unfinished Symphony" Yet given all the setting up from the beginning, we can still choose to change key and time signature mid way through the piece. The point is, we are the composer of a sheet music that God has given us graciously to write on... and if you refute this, that ultimately God is the grand composer, and the score is written... it is still up to us the musicians who choose to interpret it in whichever way we want. Like Mozart's rendition and variations of "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" (which by the way is the same melody for the Alphabet Song and numerous other songs), we too can choose to be creative and choose our variations of how our lives play out. Or, we can even be like John Cage's "3:44" and let our lives be a silent tribute of boundless possibilities.

If we look at our lives as being more meaningful given the freedom to choose, then one may argue that death of sudden nature denies that freedom of choice and rip the life it has taken of its meaning. I find that it is not true. When our hearts are sadden by the nature of death, or just death in general, it serves to remind us that the sadness in someone's absence is actually quite proportionate to the happiness/contentment we feel during that person's presence. That is to say, our sadness stem from our lost of someone who has touched us, moved us and created meaning in us... it is in fact a testimony of what they meant, and given the fact that they had little time to really choose, they still have inspired purpose in the little time allotted to them. Death then should be seen as an occasion in which we rejoice the miracle of life. Death should be a time when we express grieve over a lost, but at the same time rejoice in the memory of a life lived to fullest potential that it is enough to cause us grieve... sounds fatalistic? Perhaps... but I like to see it the way of a New Orleans Funeral March. It start with a somber procession, as we mourn and carry our dead to their resting place. As the funeral progressed, we find ourselves in a more jolly movement, a celebration of a life, and share happiness in a soul finding a joyous end/destination.

So as I sat in my car, I ponder did I lead a good life? Will my passing into another realm cause as many tears? And will each tear that fall nourish the seed of happiness/sweetness that the memory of my life have planted in those whom hold me dear? I know not when this life would end, but I would at least know I have chosen to do what I deem best of my capabilities, and led a meaningful life.

Rain

The weather here in DC Metropolitan area is rather gloomy, with occasional showers mounting up to a brief storm and rain that don't fall vertically but almost horizontally. This is the kind of weather that I somehow loathe and adore. Loathe simply because it resonates within me the dark memories/ emotions that I thought I have safely stow away. Adore because at the very same time, this weather is rather freeing. In the midst of wild thunders and pounding rain, there is a sense of renewal, as if while nature ferociously cleanse the earth of impurities, so changes my soul's scenery. The rhythmical pattering of rain drops is rather soothing, and the coolness in the air offers a different kind of zest that the constant sunshine don't seem to bring. Perhaps I am strange, but I do enjoy moments in the rain, admiring how the earth and sky which were once separated are united by these broken lines of water falling down. It serves to remind us that the sky is indeed within reach. Just as the water falling upon us once originate from the earth, so are we capable of soaring high. The earth and sky is not that far away, if it can be connected by rain, how many more of our dreams that we have now are truly unattainable?

The path towards our desires may often be unclear, discrete; but if we be patient, and wade through the storms, seeking out the millions of strands of rain that fall upon us, than perhaps we may grasp the path towards the skies in which our dreams reside. And if all else fails, the sun will come out again, and we will have the rainbow to follow.

"May the rain which binds the earth and sky, draw you closer to those you love. May the tender droplets falling clear away all uncertainty. And when indeed the thunder and lightening do worry you, remember that they frighten the evil more. And if these words fail to comfort you, then be content at least in knowing that the sun shall come out, and the rainbow will clear away all doubt."

Fall

I guess there is a reason autumn is also known as fall. All about me, things seem to be falling. Leaves leaving branches, water flowing downstream, rushing towards the open seas. Falling... how interesting a phenomenon. Somehow, the word "falling"/"fall" has become somewhat associated with negative implications. To fall seems to be a degrading thing to do: " Falling from grace", "to take a fall" . All these phrases all point towards falling as a disgrace of some sort, something bad that should be avoided. A child learns to cry each time he/she falls down, a wary father/mother constantly hovering nearby to ensure the child don't fall or to break the fall when he/she does. Ironically, given the pain of falling, most parents are willing to let their children learn how to ride a bike, drive a car and go elsewhere. Ultimately they know that falling is not necessary a bad thing.

In the society we live in today, there is a stigma tying into falling. Yet, we must ask ourselves, is falling truly that bad. Is there something inherently bad about kissing the ground occasionally on the earth we stand on, to be sucked in by the very gravity which holds us upright on this earth. Aye, it may not be natural to be lying about spread eagle, but it certainly is no strange coincidence that we fall. Looking at history, there are numerous examples of how great falls result in great victories. That without the risk of falling, the chance of succeeding is significantly reduced. Think of Babe Ruth who swing and miss almost as much as he hit, Abraham Lincoln losing numerous times, Chairman Deng Xiaoping's three falls and three rises.

Life is a cycle, consisting of falling and climbing. Like a phoenix that returns to the ashes only to be born from it, falling is sometimes a necessary process in climbing higher than we did before. Without knowing the depths in which we can sink, we can not know the extent to which we can reach up. Falling should not be a bad thing, and most often, we just have to fall through the door and see who catches you. A friend of mine whose life has been a constant source of inspiration once said to me, "it is not how hard you fall that matters, but how ready you are to climb back up that defines you".

So in this season we call as Fall, I urge you to look back and reflect the numerous times you have fallen, and how you have climb back up to achieve greater things until here you are, being the person you are.

No one can not promise you that there will not be holes and cracks in which you will trip and fall through. No one can guarantee that should you fall you will not be hurt, or be stuck for a while. Yet no matter how deep a hole, how hard a fall, someone close by must have fallen through it too, and I am certain that there is always a friend somewhere ready to jump in and climb back out with you.

Lent

Today, Ash Wednesday, marks the beginning of Lent, the forty day period before Easter... a period of quiet contemplation and penitence. As Christians, we have been taught to emulate the life of Christ as much as possible, not just because He is a good example, but because by doing so we eliminate the time and space barriers that separates us. From a theological stand point, when we take the communion, we are not doing it just so in remembrance of Him, but because we believe at that singular moment when we do receive the host and bread, we are joined to Him, and with Christians everywhere else beginning from the first apostles and to those who shall come later- we are all partaking the same feast in spirit. Similarily, we observe Lent because it signifies the period in which Jesus was supposed to have gone into the wilderness to fast for forty days, and later to trimuph over the devil's temptations. The wilderness holds a central theme during Lent, we talk about going into wilderness of faith, we talk about isolation, contemplation. It is believed that by going into the wilderness, we shall become better because of it. Yet, we also seem to connotate the wilderness with negative attribute as well... as if the wilderness is something that we should normally avoid, that it is dark and mysterious, and not the place one should be regularly. Somehow, during the course of evolution, humans as civilizations have become much removed from the natural environment that our ancestors have lived in. We have gone from being dweller of trees and caves, to being people of the land, to finally the people of suburbia, urban and metropolitan. Nature, and wilderness presents the modern man/woman with a sense of mystery and fear. We watch with morbid fascination at those who choose to go into the wilderness knowingly. We usually call these people eccentrics, hermits, and sometimes anti-social. We also label the outdoorsmen as being a unique breed, the lumberjacks who smelled nothing butforest pine. We even look at John the Baptist as an eccentrics of sort. The Bible took special care to describe John as a "wild" man... and psychologically, we like to point at freaks and whoever stands out from the norm and mock them, while internally thankful for the fact that we are "normal, and not like them". That is perhaps the reason we love watching shows like "Survivor" on the TV- because it shows a bunch of people who are willing to put themselves to the test by surviving the elements, and become the "animals", revealing the true human/ beast nature inside of us. Our fear of the wilderness, to feel exposed and vulnerable is repeatedly reinforced by the fear of degrading ourselves to the levels of fellow creatures which walks, fly and swim this earth. I find the wilderness comforting, true, I have my reservations for being there. However, I enjoyed the fact that I am in the open and being humbled by the very same vastness and greatness which has humbled those before me. It gives me a certain serenity, to know that I reach for the same stars, dream the common dreams of those who first slept beneath them. The wilderness should not be something to be shunned, it is there that we find our true selves, it is there that we truly acknowledge who we are. We have built artificial environments to secure ourselves, we have construct our own divine entities to worship and enslave ourselves to. Yet, it is the wilderness that provided the first divine spark of faith, it is the wilderness that reveals to us in full force the wonder that has humbled us, and allow us to be true beings of sentinence. Through the wilderness, we acknowledge our limitations, our minute/ ephemeral presence... and because of it, because of our patience and acceptance, we found hope. Hope does not beget patience, but rather the reverse is true. All the virtues which Christ seek in us is nourished through the wilderness. It is in wilderness that we learn to be self sufficient and at the same time to learn and rely on the natural resources of God. It is through nature that we find our flow, the seasons of things. We learn not to push, nor will we be disappointed as easily, because we acknowledge that there is a time for sowing, and a time for reaping; and in between things unexpected will happen, but we will survive. Faith,love and hope exists in the wilderness in vast abundance, I believe we need to find it and then spread their seed in humanity. In our own wilderness shall we find exotic fruits for the wilderness of Christ is not a barren desert.