On Frozen Sands
In a world where death is the hunter, my friend, there is no time for regrets or doubts. There is only time for decisions. — Carlos Castaneda
Winter’s biting winds blur the fine line between life and death. Just like life, no matter how bundled up against the unexpected we may be, an unexpected chill will sneak through our defenses and send a shiver up the spine. Staring across the merciless frozen sands towards the roiling gray vastness summons a reckoning with one’s mortality. Alone, rooted to the frigid ground by the bitter breath of non-being against the back, reflecting on one’s extinction stirs the soul. Potential decisions are weighed. But ultimately before the ends comes, as Twain said, one should fear never truly living.
I do not fear death. I had been dead for billions and billions of years before I was born, and had not suffered the slightest inconvenience from it. It is not death that a man should fear, but he should fear never beginning to live. — Mark Twain
Life’s dramatic comedy plays out in a metaphysical theater as grand or as ordinary as an individual chooses. The characters one plays in society are often dictated by the expectations of others. As Shakespeare said, “And one man in his time plays many parts.” But when alone, in the barest settings, the ashen fingers of uncertainty slip around the throat. The breath catches. The pulse races. The stark, frozen sands of time can reveal one’s character, but one must be willing to face the truth. In this way, the spirit is renewed.
Human beings are not born once and for all on the day their mothers give birth to them, but … life obliges them over and over again to give birth to themselves. — Gabriel García Márquez
Every moment plays out in many dimensions of time. Each of these possess countless aspects many of which we are consciously unaware. But our senses (whatever number more than five you accept) react to a myriad of stimuli. These organic sensors insure our survival while our minds wander and ponder. Consciousness, which most people arrogantly regard as entirely human, is infused throughout nature and the cosmos. The unconscious mind perceives immeasurable connections to these otherwise hidden realms. Ancient people understood this and communed with the spirits of water, wind and wood. These “primitives” sensed the divinity contained within soil, sand and stones. The legacy of their primal senses remains within us all. And every moment revels in the aura of this natural interconnectedness.
We cannot live for ourselves alone. Our lives are connected by a thousand invisible threads, and along these sympathetic fibers, our actions run as causes and return to us as results. — Herman Melville
The hateful sting of remorse can be lessened if one is ready to act selflessly. But if a person continues to act selfishly the scars of regret open repeatedly Many people greedily acquire secular assets and so-called wealth. The accumulated pile of worldly goods can fill many once empty rooms of their big, high-priced homes. But their actions or inaction towards others impoverishes their spirit. The self-indulgent always thirst and hunger for more. There will comes a day of reckoning. Without a change of heart, their soul is diminished and their life forgotten. It is never too late — until one day it is.
Death is not extinguishing the light; it is only putting out the lamp because the dawn has come. — Rabindranath Tagore
There is so much more to existence than the logical/literal four-dimensional, five senses version. Each of us is a reflection of the bountiful infinite Universe. Connect to the limitless consciousness. Bask in the illumination of eternity. Peace.