by Bodwyn Wook
In a comment on this posting below, someone wrote in to say, “Give us all some time here in order to understand the point in this”:
It is kind of the person to have asked & I am glad for the interest in this Death that is so suppressed everywhere among us, but all I can say, really, is that my effusions most usefully will be taken by anyone reading them as no more than so many ports de sortie into the Beyond.
The best result will be if the reader starts to scribble or draw their own “stuff”!
For THE question is, just what are the accumulating fantasies & imaginal things about Death that YOU are laying up in the back of YOUR mind & whether you know it, or not?
Personally — don’t think that THIS stuff of “mine” is “all there is to it”! — The thing I am working “against” in my written meditations is the suffocation of The Literal we all struggle through like mud & “reason” while all the while on the way OUT, anyway.
Now, the unrelenting tyranny of The Here & The Now IS so Godawful that, of course, I WILL step off when I am clear that I have made “myself” for good & all into some kind of a way out for all the World.
“I” do wash away quotidianly in depressions & listless sulks, I do & so much the worse for “me” — but, the sodden sand of the ebbing tide then is molded COMPLETELY into a gateway beyond Now & the Beyond.
It is not a matter some “terminal” diagnosis, not so far, but like George VI I have walked with Death as a better & better friend for good long time, now.
So, in the meanwhile, I do, do, do (like the Nature of Old Heraclitus!) love to try on the different “fantasies” that we cook up together as buddies, about all of the MANY things that He, Death, after all & He alone does have on offer.
Simply enough, this World is not — it CAN not be — “enough” & it is the object not only of our doom; it also is greatly to be loved & rescued by any means possible.
I see within “myself” that my old friendship now, with Death, gives “me” clearer & clearer ideas of how, indeed, “I,” at my physical elimination (NB) from the story of the World, WILL rescue imaginally & entirely at least the living images of allI have known during the time here, taking them — “you” — all out of “me” & into Foreverness on a last breath.
Now these things exhaled in the last rattle of the carcass by Death, these shaken-loose figments of aerosol & misty snot droplets, of course are not “you,” but they are more seeds of the Youness of you all.
Another fantasy from an oblique angle, now:
The state after Death is so diffuse & “other” that “we” DO exist, but rather as fables or imaginal pictures; we, “individually” may not even be looked at for centuries; but, there in vast libraries of folios we abide in a state that only may be tasted in this cramped Life in reveries at three in the morning & dozing under the elms in the hammock.
It is absolutely such a restful thing to do…for EVER.
[all rights reserved
[21 July 2014]