Dear friends,
At times we are granted the special privilege of accompanying a beloved family member or a friend on their journey out of this familiar world.
What a gift that invitation is and what a comfort to the loved one.
This existence of ours is very strange indeed.
Here we are,
You and I,
Tiny dots in a vast cosmos,
Yet having the ability to ask the question,
What is this all about?
What is it that has brought us into this existence?
Before we reflect more on these things,
Let's take a minute to stop the internal chatter and come to a place of rest which is the starting point of all contemplation.
Breathing in slowly and mindfully,
Breathing out in the same way,
So as to become aware of our presence here in this time and place.
Just one minute to come to a place of rest.
Breathing in steadily and mindfully,
Breathing out in the same way,
So as to become aware Welcome back.
Who can say what lies beyond the mystery of this life?
Whatever it is we believe we come from,
Surely we return to,
Be that nature,
Nothingness or God.
As the years pass and we grow older,
Each of us tends to become more aware of the shortness of this life.
Naturally the question arises in our minds,
What next?
What lies beyond?
Is the end of this life our gateway into a new existence of which we will be aware?
Or is this it?
Is the end of this life the gateway to oblivion?
The Roman poet and philosopher Lucretius reflected on these questions more than two thousand years ago.
In his work on the nature of things he claims that just as we are unconcerned whether we lived at any time before we were born,
So we should be equally unconcerned whether we live at any time after we die.
As he says,
Look back now and consider how the bygone ages of eternity that elapsed before our birth were nothing to us.
Here then is a mirror in which nature shows us the time to come after our death.
Do you see anything fearful in it?
Do you perceive anything grim?
Does it not appear more peaceful than the deepest sleep?
Words there from Lucretius.
Isn't it just wonderful to think of beings such as ourselves,
Limited as we are in time and space,
Capable of seeking to make judgements about the infinite and the eternal.
But who knows what lies beyond this extraordinary existence.
And interesting as it is to try to come to conclusions about an unknowable future,
A more important point is that these contemplations lead us to think with gratitude about all that we have.
From an infinite number of possibilities the extraordinary reality is that you and I are here.
For you and I to be here sharing these thoughts requires an unbroken sequence of chance events stretching back beyond our concept of time right back to the very beginning not only of life but of the universe.
The life of each of us is the result of our winning the lotto day after day after day from the very beginning of time.
As we contemplate life,
Particularly as it nears its end,
What can we feel but a sense of gratitude for our existence and a profound thankfulness for all that we have seen and heard and felt since that fateful day on which we were born.
And this thankfulness and gratitude relates not only to our own existence but to the presence in this world of everyone we know and love.
When we open our eyes we see paradise.
This existence of ours is so short,
A flash in the night but so wonderful.
Was it worth it?
Whatever the circumstances,
Yes it was.
Dorothy N.
Monroe captures this sense of gratitude in her poem called The Cost.
Death is not too high a price to pay for having lived.
Mountains never die,
Nor do the seas or rocks or endless sky.
Through countless centuries of time they stay eternal,
Deathless,
Yet they never lived.
If choice there were I would not hesitate to choose mortality.
Whatever fate demanded in return for life I'd give.
For never to have seen the fertile plains,
Nor heard the winds,
Nor felt the warm sun on sands beneath my feet,
Nor touched the hands of those I love.
Without these all the gains of timelessness would not be worth a day of living and of loving come what may.
Words there from Dorothy N.
Monroe.
Yes indeed it was worth it.
This life mattered.
Which brings us to a poem of the same name,
This Life Mattered.
Ready or not,
Some day it all comes to an end.
There are no more sunrises,
No more minutes,
Hours or days.
All the things collected,
Treasured or forgotten pass to someone else.
Wealth,
Fame and temporal power shrivel to irrelevance.
It matters not what was owned or owed.
Grudges,
Resentments,
Frustrations and jealousies finally disappear.
Hopes,
Ambitions,
Plans and to-do lists expire.
Wins and losses that once seemed so important fade away.
It no longer matters where you came from or on what side of the tracks you lived.
No matter whether you are beautiful or brilliant.
Gender and skin colour are irrelevant.
So what matters?
How is the value of our days measured?
What matters is not what we bought but what we built.
Not what we got but what we gave.
What matters is not our success but our significance.
What matters is not what we learned but what we taught.
What matters is every act of integrity,
Compassion,
Courage or sacrifice that enriched,
Empowered or encouraged others to emulate our example.
What matters is not our competence but our character.
What matters is not how many people we knew but how many people will feel a lasting loss when we are gone.
What matters is not our memories but the memories that live in those who loved us.
What matters is how long we will be remembered by whom and for what.
Living a life that matters doesn't happen by accident.
It's not a matter of circumstance but a matter of choice.
I'll leave you with the words of Meister Eckhart.
If the only prayer you ever say in your entire life is thank you,
It will be enough.
Let each of us take to heart these words and let the two simple words thank you be the last words on our lips.
Namaste.
