I tend to agree with the fact that time doesn't really exist when we die, that it's just like going to sleep. I just hope there are nice dreams, and no nightmares. It's a weird concept, isn't it. Does your head in a bit. I've also lost wonderful friends. Yet I feel them around me, most days. Take care of yourself. Lots of love.
From what I know physically from writing a book about death, it is like going to sleep. And I don’t believe there would be nightmares either. Thank you for sharing.
So sorry about your friends, Anna. It sucks. I think your advice about how to deal with it by going back to basics is spot on.
I also think that when we die, it is similar to before we're born. We have no concept/ awareness of it, and there is no time. Some, like Vic, believe that we are reborn, in a cycle of death and rebirth. I incline to that view.
I’m so fascinated to hear what others believe in. I loved what Vic said for many reasons, one of them being that guys on building sites often play down one another’s injuries. ‘Well, he died before and it didn’t do him any harm.’ Something instantly clicked for me.
I love the essay that you link to; it's a fascinating question about how we might give shape to our words, and how they might feel in our readers' hands. I really love the idea of putting bits of the text into soap, so that when people wash their hands they are cleansed. When it comes to my novel, I've pondered it in as much as I'd like the novel to be blood-soaked. And I want it to feel like magic. What that really means, though, I'm not sure... I think I want people to feel the opposite of cleansed. I have an image of people climbing up a mountain of bloody bones, as in a Marina Abramovic art installation. Lol.
This has been a bad year for losing people, most of them seemingly “before their time”. But I’m not sure that phrase is particularly meaningful, once a little distance is in place. Things and stories and people have a beginning, a middle and an ending and no matter how sudden or hurtful, an ending is an ending and ultimately provides a shape. Doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt or won’t carry on hurting but it’s an ending and ending make things count.
Our community has lost three relatively young people (40-60ys) in a short span. They were vibrant, lovely people who enriched the lives of everyone around them. It hurts, it makes me wonder, it leaves me sad. I am so sorry about your friends Anna.
Times like this leave me on slightly shaky ground, it makes me wonder where am I in all this, and as you said, where are they? I love Vic's answer, it certainly brings comfort.
Anna, "Time and space are constructs of the anxious mind, a need for explanation, that's how it works...we come into our temporal worlds, and we go out of them; we emerge, and we recede. The answer to where we go after life is obvious - we go to the same place we came from. Bold statements, but then we should be bold." From the most recent post in S&UP (Strange and Unusual Places)
I have been grappling with this. I love that this builder-turned-friend showed up. I love that there were egg sandwiches and laughter and philosophy. So sorry for your loss.
This is very beautiful Anna. Straight from the heart. And that Brevity essay. Both yours and theirs makes me realise the strength of words - or absence of words - and the importance in what we do ❤️
It’s so true, Lily. You can understand exactly why that essay spoke to me at this moment, and her tale of the playdoh, the space around words. So affecting.
This reminds me of Steven Pressfield's novel set in ancient Greece, Gates of Fire, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gates_of_Fire. He writes of hoplites after a minor, unimportant battle. In the words of his character, some of your soul leaves your body during a battle. You must become a ruthless killing machine to be of use to your comrades. It is the shock of your complete soul returning which overwhelms in the aftermath.
I tend to agree with the fact that time doesn't really exist when we die, that it's just like going to sleep. I just hope there are nice dreams, and no nightmares. It's a weird concept, isn't it. Does your head in a bit. I've also lost wonderful friends. Yet I feel them around me, most days. Take care of yourself. Lots of love.
From what I know physically from writing a book about death, it is like going to sleep. And I don’t believe there would be nightmares either. Thank you for sharing.
So sorry about your friends, Anna. It sucks. I think your advice about how to deal with it by going back to basics is spot on.
I also think that when we die, it is similar to before we're born. We have no concept/ awareness of it, and there is no time. Some, like Vic, believe that we are reborn, in a cycle of death and rebirth. I incline to that view.
I’m so fascinated to hear what others believe in. I loved what Vic said for many reasons, one of them being that guys on building sites often play down one another’s injuries. ‘Well, he died before and it didn’t do him any harm.’ Something instantly clicked for me.
I love the essay that you link to; it's a fascinating question about how we might give shape to our words, and how they might feel in our readers' hands. I really love the idea of putting bits of the text into soap, so that when people wash their hands they are cleansed. When it comes to my novel, I've pondered it in as much as I'd like the novel to be blood-soaked. And I want it to feel like magic. What that really means, though, I'm not sure... I think I want people to feel the opposite of cleansed. I have an image of people climbing up a mountain of bloody bones, as in a Marina Abramovic art installation. Lol.
Love that, Anita. It could be a really visceral experience.
Another beautiful piece, Anna. Hits you right there: ❤️
Loss is only experienced by the people left behind and one day we’ll be able to see it all, and then we’ll know xx
🙏🏼❤️
This has been a bad year for losing people, most of them seemingly “before their time”. But I’m not sure that phrase is particularly meaningful, once a little distance is in place. Things and stories and people have a beginning, a middle and an ending and no matter how sudden or hurtful, an ending is an ending and ultimately provides a shape. Doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt or won’t carry on hurting but it’s an ending and ending make things count.
This is so true, Gabriel. Sorry to hear you have suffered losses too.
Our community has lost three relatively young people (40-60ys) in a short span. They were vibrant, lovely people who enriched the lives of everyone around them. It hurts, it makes me wonder, it leaves me sad. I am so sorry about your friends Anna.
Times like this leave me on slightly shaky ground, it makes me wonder where am I in all this, and as you said, where are they? I love Vic's answer, it certainly brings comfort.
Sorry to hear your community has also suffered losses, Donna. Thank you for your comments and I’m pleased that this piece offered you some comfort.
sorry too about you losing your friends, don't know what else to say...
🙏🏼❤️
Anna, "Time and space are constructs of the anxious mind, a need for explanation, that's how it works...we come into our temporal worlds, and we go out of them; we emerge, and we recede. The answer to where we go after life is obvious - we go to the same place we came from. Bold statements, but then we should be bold." From the most recent post in S&UP (Strange and Unusual Places)
Thank you for sharing, David.
This is so moving and honest. Thank you
Thank you for reading, Bonnie.
I have been grappling with this. I love that this builder-turned-friend showed up. I love that there were egg sandwiches and laughter and philosophy. So sorry for your loss.
I love all those things too. Thank you Amy. I hope this spoke to you.
Thank you for these powerful and compelling observations and the story of life and death and friendship and eternal life
Thanks for reading, Mark.
Thank you for sharing. 🙏
❤️🙏🏼
Gorgeous heartbreaking comforting
❤️
This is very beautiful Anna. Straight from the heart. And that Brevity essay. Both yours and theirs makes me realise the strength of words - or absence of words - and the importance in what we do ❤️
It’s so true, Lily. You can understand exactly why that essay spoke to me at this moment, and her tale of the playdoh, the space around words. So affecting.
OMG I love this. So much comfort. And such a wonderful friend to have.
Yes, he was. I’m glad these words spoke to you. 🙏🏼❤️
This reminds me of Steven Pressfield's novel set in ancient Greece, Gates of Fire, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gates_of_Fire. He writes of hoplites after a minor, unimportant battle. In the words of his character, some of your soul leaves your body during a battle. You must become a ruthless killing machine to be of use to your comrades. It is the shock of your complete soul returning which overwhelms in the aftermath.
That’s very interesting, thank you for sharing that, Ray.
I wish I believed in reincarnation. Thank you for that and sorry for your loss x
Maybe you believe it in when you desperately need to believe something 🤷🏻♀️