27 December, 2013

A New Skin Stretched on the Skeleton

I recently dreamed of my passing from a previous life, seemingly making concrete my connection to my partner as a young boy when I did not know him. Saying good-bye in dream like form not as I am now.  It was not really dying in the dream, just alluding to it, so there was no fear or panic. It was intriguing, which then prompts me to think about upon awakening about our desire to find meaning in our life. This dream may have come out of our talks about our connection, seeing his photo as a young boy or just purely wishing it so. 

On further examination it seems to me that there is really no meaning to our life, it is all a fabrication of my over-active mind. Thus trying to live a virtuous life, is really just a way of simplifying life, wiping half of the complications brought on without living this way. Living with virtue may seem selfish at times....we still want something. But it does bring about more connection with others and the world, so in the other way, you end up feeling less like the “boy in the plastic bubble.” This might freeing you up to serve others. It has been said in many books that service is one clear path to liberation. Liberating what? The self-concern whipped up by the “me” who projects himself as separate? Most people who have children would just say, “duh!” because this is a natural product of such a life. I chose this route when society gave me no other option. It thankfully has been changing rapidly in the last ten years, with gay marriage and parenting. 

If I put aside any choice I may have had as far as direction when you consider the universe directs every possible combination of life. Then it puts me back into not finding any meaning, but relaxing into what is here, right now, however it or life manifests. Relaxing is not something I do easily when things are difficult, but it points us directly back to that imaginary “me” that perceives this all.

Looking back, I was forced to relax when my brain injury happened in the hospital. I had no choice, zipping through life as though I was invincible to a complete dead stop. It is weird to think you consider yourself lucky to have a brain injury which exhausts you so much that you have to relax in a fog of unknowing. That fog, should be exactly the same as the “What is” that one should naturally arrive at for real happiness. A wild ride on the way there, at least, but way smarter than running looking for meaning in life.

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