What is dying?
Many things — are dying. So many things.
And yet, consider the process of dying itself. It’s a riot, a way to keep things in perspective. Dying is a whole bunch of game-changing crazy rolled up in a rug and taken out with the rest of the evidence in the dead of night to keep up appearances, unspoil the fragile arrangement of life.
But one thing we rarely mention is the positive aspect of dying.
Because dying is an affirmation of life.
(Oldest cliche in the human canon, but true.)
The darkness that defines the light, that’s dying. The absence of light in the world’s contours, giving depth and shape to everything one sees, providing purpose, variety, and meaning to the visible spectrum. The contrast that delineates the colors in any picture, be it moving or still, adding depth and dimension to any picture.
The coordinates of absence that support the vibrancy around them. So necessary, so underestimated, taken for granted, never pondered in terms of their deathly qualities, which, when combined with animate force, provide the dimension necessary for the spectrum to come alive.
Dying, all of it.
To die is to trace out the beauty of life, perpetuating its effect in ways only its gradated demise can illuminate.
Such is the nature of logic, frustratingly convoluted and messed up. All death is life, period. Everything that has been conjured up during a living state is, and cannot but be, by default, part of the living realm, the end of life included. Like it or not, it’s an imperative, and not a metaphysical entity, or something beyond, as the religions of the world command. Death is much simpler than that, and, on account of its simplicity, much more profound. Just another function of the world of existence, imbuing the matrix with value. The notion of ‘is’ arises from the notion of ‘dead’ i.e. gone i.e. no more i.e. what ‘isn’t’ as opposed to what still ‘is.’
In other words, life requires death. Without it, it has no meaning. The accidents life encounters on its long journey onward, the abrupt stops and pitfalls, are an affirmation of its longevity, nothing less, nothing more.
Life is life on account of death — in fact, death is life. As simple as that.
Here endeth the philosophical platitudes and cliches.
(There’s always death in endeth.)
I hope the above makes sense — that at least one point came across. If not, worry not, another goal has been reached, one I value greatly. For every person bored out of his/her mind, or turned away by this kind of thinking, my job becomes easier. For every mind that walks away from the logic behind the deeper nature of existence, seeking refuge in the easy answers of pre-chewed directives, well, the chaff is separating, so to speak. One more obsolete consciousness has flagged itself, making space for the coming transition. Make way for the next generation and its fondness of a life more examined, a life that will come to terms with the demands of existence as few people know it, transcending all things human, giving rise to a new nature.
Time to move beyond the banal, into something more appropriate, relevant, and in sync with the times.
I will see to it. Personally.
My name is EON, son of Time.
Here endeth today’s mission statement.
Intrigued? Watch this space for more.
From the collection of writings EON: THE ANGRY COMING OF AGE