Life in a Cemetery

Have you ever been in a cemetery alone at night? It really is peaceful. It’s a mysterious and in your face harbinger of definite truth. It is so beautiful to be surrounded by the answer to the all elusive questions What is life? What is death? Both are present here tonight! I know what life is I’ve been it; and I know what death is…it is buried all around me…but that knowledge is empty. I see the facts and the perfect measure of science and time…but I don’t feel it. It’s just another illusion.

For we have been witness to the secret of resurrection and life/death!

We just refuse to accept it. Refuse to be open to it. It was just to scary and we weren’t ready for our controlled existence to end.

So we carve our stones and form our crosses to mark the measure of life and death and bury our refusal in the dirt just like all the animals do. All the while not realizing what we are doing….Instead of mourning death we are creating it! With our own minds we remember what it means to be nothing and celebrate it; nurture it’s touch on ourselves. We cordon off a measured and set area where we leave and forget our lives and memories. We fear to visit here on pain of passionately remembering a life no longer here…not gone…but not here.

This absurdity functions like a scapegoat. Here I will place this thing in me that I don’t understand and can’t tolerate. Here I will place this thing in me that has been here since birth. Here I will put this thing I no longer can bear…here I will leave it to do as it pleases away from me and my LIFE!!!

It’s business as usual. Drawing lines and separating things that belong together just to satisfy our own vain comfort!

These people, these ideas and concepts are the victims! Selfish manifest destiny of souls! The dead don’t exist as the living so we cast them out! We don’t want their kind breeding with ours! (oh it’s possible anything is if you open your eyes)

I’m just surprised we don’t see water fountains with the words “LIVING ONLY”

We hold these truths to be self evident that all EXISTING things are created equal and have equal right to passions and reverence!

Is that what death represents? The end of a relationship with passion? The end in your ability to move and affect things.

If so…who is it that gives this death its power? Who is responsible for death?

Is it some fatalistic will with a ruler, some yarn, and a pair of scissors, in hand; or is it ourselves the ones that remove the things we are uncomfortable with facing? Us the ones that are all to happy to separate and forget….all to willing to remove passion…

Here is the paradigm shift!

So far we have briefly explored where we fear to exist. What about the places we desire to be?

What of our homes? What of the places we build up to be our solace? That is the hypocrisy! Raise your hands if somewhere in your house you have a mirror. Raise your hands if somewhere in your house you have a collection of old photographs. Raise your hands if somewhere in your house are things that have memories or passions attached to them. Any trophies or status symbols that you feel represent you?

I got news for you…that image staring back at you in the mirror with YOUR eyes doesn’t exist as you do. Those photographs of yourself slightly thinner with more hair and less wrinkled skin don’t exist as you do. Those artifacts you strategically display all around you don’t represent moments that exist as you do now.

Who you are now is not who you were a moment ago; with the birth of every new realization implies the death of the old ideas and realities that make up who you are.

Each moment we live is a moment justified by those moments and realities that are now dead. Those artifacts we keep to represent who we are, really are just markers of where we keep our dead passions.

We use these artifacts to justify our lives; we use these artifacts to energize our every intention and justify our every motion. These are the tombstones we create to imply that once we lived!

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