Remembering @ MindSay

Three years ago today we said goodbye to you. And I miss you just the same now as I did then.

 

When you are sorrowful look again into your heart and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight. -Kahlil Gibran, The Prophet
 
The depth of our grief is always in direct proportion to the depth of our love.

If you have enough parts left over to bury, it had better be because they're too worn-out for anyone else to use. I really have no need of any part of this particular shell, and I have even less need for it to be safely stored in a high-security box at the bottom of a hole. Use whatever you can to help whoever's left here.

I have no idea what the accepted method of body-disposal will be during the age in which I expire. However, if it somehow does something to damage the environment, and you do this with my remains, you CLEARLY weren't listening while I was alive.

My friend's dad died last week. Knuter and I went to the service on Saturday, but we'd never been to a Celebrate Life service before. He thought it was kind of weird - I thought it was very cool.

When we came in, it was kind of an open-mike thing...erm, without the mike. Anyone who was in the room would stand up and talk about this man. What they remembered about him. What the last few days with him were like. Who he was as a person. Who he wanted to be like, who he tried to live like.

I know that I'd far prefer this style of service for myself than I would the typical funeral, but I think the part of speaking what we remember about the person is for each other. I know people talk about living a life people wil praise afterwards, but I don't need to hear anyone else praising me. Our own words fade swiftly, and the words I long to hear after my death are more along the lines of, "Faithful servant, well done."

I don't know if we can still see what happens here once we're in Heaven. I don't know if it's considered a distraction from what really matters (it's well-known that this world is temporary, the next is not), or if only angels can see what happens here, or anything for certain. But I do know that if I can see back here, I'll be demanding to know what everyone's upset about.

I'm not really dead. I'm just not here anymore. I don't have asthma, or astigmatism, or even residue of depression. I'm not alone, and we're having quite the celebration here because I finally came home. So, do yourselves a favor - if ever you loved me, have the same kind of celebration. Because I finally came home. And a good number of us will be together again.

I woke up this morning with spirituality on my mind.

I remembered when I was Wiccan, I would wake up each morning and wonder what I would discover that day, what mysteries would be revealed, what revelations had, what beauty I had ahead of me in my day, each day, of my life. Each day was exciting if just for this reason. Now I wake up and wonder if I will still have what is important in my life intact at the end of it or if I will destroyed myself, lost myself (have I not already?)... How many times will I feel suicidal today? How many times will I fluctuate extreme moods for no apparent reason? How will I stand myself and what is around me today?

I don't think it is so much Wicca the religion itself that brought the former perspective to my life, but rather spirituality and a connection with what is around me. Suddenly I no longer am in tune with my surroundings, not only the Earth, but my immediate environment like this room I'm in. Suddenly I am just existing. There is no connection. I learned so much from that connection, I felt such stability, I overcame a lot. Of course life was not perfect, but it was more manageable. Not to mention my room was clean. Now I can't keep my room clean for one day before it's a pigsty again. When I was Wiccan and my room was always tidy and had a wonderful feel to it, everyone always wanted to hang out in here. I'll admit, it was a beautiful place to be - just the feel in here. Now it's dark and out of touch and cold and I don't even like being in here. I feel depressed just BEING in here.

I came home from school the other day - I think it was Thursday - and I felt that old familiar connection return for a short time. The trees around here are in bloom - beautiful pink flowers on them, lush and bright. Beautiful. I walked under one on my way home from the bus stop and I leaned my head back as I walked beneath it, and it was a cloudy day, but the sun was right there in front of me, and through the flowers on the tree I could see where a few rays of the suns light were coming out from the clouds. Beautiful. I walked to my front door, let myself in, and immediately headed to the porch. I sat down, looked at the tree that shades the porch for a few seconds, then closed my eyes and meditated for a while. It felt really good. Only problem was after a while it was hard to concentrate due to the sirens, the cars on the road a ways away (how the road can be so far away but you can still hear them... I don't know) and people opening and shutting their doors. Not the easiest environment to meditate in, but I enjoyed the little time I sat in silence reaching for a still place in my mind anyway. I could feel some gain from it.

I want that back. Like I said, life was not without some trouble, but it was... perfect. A perfect life, to me, does not mean without difficulty and hardship. Expecting that and looking for that day is pure foolish. Trials are as much a part of life as is the air surrounding us that we breathe. A life without these troubles is indeed NOT perfect, if you ask me. I don't believe I need to become Wiccan again to have these things, or even that I should. But I might do well to remember the things of this beautiful religion that made my life brighter and more wholesome. Like the realisation and acknowledgement of my connection with all of nature, of nature's delicate cycles and systems, of my own power to create change, my own power of myself. I need to regain that most importantly.

-Liv-

My mind is a playground for memories today.
I have been remembering  a lot of stuff from my  childhood,
Some good some bad .
However I have been remembering so much.
Some moments I wish I could just change ...and some I wish I could have back.
Its good to remember ...sometimes .
Even though there are moments I wish that would  never come to mind.
The good memories is what I want ...but I guess we have to take the good with the bad .
well that was  what I have been thinking about ...thought I would share .