Nature's Place

Or a beautiful death? Can death be beautiful? Or is it dying and dead bodies we make a big ‘to do’ about, because we are emotionally attached to living?

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A new word for me, apocalypticism, came across my field of view. It basically means, to me, the propensity of people to project their cultural and personal fear of death as images of future events. And since every-body fears death that means every-body does it at some time. The most vocal, heard above the din, are usually anyone who has touched the coat-tails of death. So much has been written about this, as if it were unusual, that is just another form of projection – taking it all so seriously.

Let’s look at the fact of things. Everybody dies, everybody knows it, and few realise it. The few who realise it, before they actually die, ‘often’ come back from the realisation with passionately imaginative stories of Man’s future life, or death, on or off the earth. And that’s all it is, imagination, fuelled by fear momentarily elevated to a passion, or released by a temporary detachment, that one may hold to as some kind of universal truth. This is just nonsense, in my experience, self delusion – if taken too seriously, as if it really matters.

It’s the non-sense of the self’s imaginings of its own death, since it dies with the body – as it grew with it, released from the burden and  fear of it, for a while. People who are ‘actually’ dying don’t have these imaginings, though they may have culturally colourful visions of the psyche released from the weight of existence.

Their attention is too focused on the reality of dying. Dying is sensational, if you are rightly prepared for it, or emotionally painful. The still delusional go on deluding regardless, and it will end in its time, no problem.

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On the other hand, since everybody/thing must die, and it occurs in degrees as everything in existence does, it has its place. Apocalypticism is as natural and ‘unreal’ as existence itself. It’s like saying ‘that flower is going to die’. Of course it is, ‘of course’ – by the simple way of things it will mature, wither and die. So it is, in another degree, with civilisations or even species and races. There is every degree or measure of death. Big deal?

I don’t think so, without death nothing new could be. It’s our system of being, this then not that. But it does have an entertainment value every now and then. :)

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The real import is in what cannot be imagined, cannot be written or spoken. Because it is beyond existence or the forms of it, be they you or me. That is reality. What is? Have I gone beyond your capacity to follow yet? Because from here there is nothing there, though a few can see and articulate the simplest view without having to run off … into … imagining.

The more words = images, the less reality. The image is not the thing imaged.

That means everything that is said, written, done, thought, imagined, felt is not the reality, though it is all necessary to the reality being realised. And that’s its purpose, elimination of the false by involving yourself in it until you become so Jaded of the ‘same old’ excitement that you give it up. Until the end …death … endlessly.

That’s self mastery and that’s all that really matters, to me.

What is? :)

Amen! :)

Mark Berkery ……. Click any picture to enlarge in a new tab

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