Will not fade away.
Reflecting on the end of life, whether it’s our own experience or that of a loved one, is never easy.
In the book A Grief Observed, C.S. Lewis expressed exactly how I felt when he wrote, “No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear. I am not afraid, but the sensation is like being afraid. The same fluttering in the stomach, the same restlessness, the yawning. I keep on swallowing. At other times it feels like being mildly drunk or concussed. There is a sort of invisible blanket between the world and me. I find it hard to take in what anyone says. Or perhaps, hard to want to take it in. It is so uninteresting.”
Last year, I lost someone who was a father figure to me. He has shown me what a true family bond is. He was more than a mentor to my dad and in a lot of ways to me; more like a grandfather I never really had.
I feel fatherhood is an elastic concept, some people just come into your life to nudge you in the right direction.
He was battling cancer for years. The last time he visited us, somewhere knowing his death is approaching. With all the immense pain he was undergoing; he came down to our home to give his blessings.
I still remember vividly I sat down on the floor near his bed and he fell asleep blessing me with his hand over my head. I didn’t move for a couple of minutes worried that I’ll wake him up. After a while, I kept his hand on the bed and I quietly left the room. I wish I could’ve sat there a little longer, knowing it’s the last time I’ll see him.
A couple of days later he passed away. I couldn’t convince myself to join the funeral, I was just so afraid to see him like that. I focused entirely on my work, perhaps as an escape from reality. Do I regret not attending the funeral? Yes.
After we lost him, I went quiet and I am never really the silent one. I was in the midst of a depressive episode; completely lost the desire to be around superficial people and the hypocrisy they carry with them on a day-to-day basis. My world was shaken to the core and I felt as if I was losing my sense of self. He was slowly fading away with time and the memories I wanted to hold onto so tight. Grief made me isolated in a room full of people.
Some things heal with time I guess. Sometimes you don’t forgive yourself for something you feel you could’ve done better or you could’ve been more present; you become hostage to your anger, frustration, and hurt.
His absence made me understand the significance and value of his teachings. He has taught me so much about life, including being more humble and grounded, loving without conditions, always choosing the right path regardless of how torn you’re between right and wrong, respecting everyone’s struggles and pain; never forgetting the line between ethical and unethical, and to inspire change and impact other people’s lives.
“You must not let your life run in the ordinary way; do something that nobody else has done, something that will dazzle the world. Show that God’s creative principle works in you.” — Paramahansa Yogananda from his book Autobiography of a yogi
At some point, I’ve struggled with my relationship with life; in search of meaning. I still do sometimes. But one thing I have always known is that I want to make a profound contribution to the world through my work.
We all are here to realize our true calling; with a clear sense of purpose that gives meaning to our lives.
In the Bhagavad Gita, Arjuna has a conversation with Lord Krishna; the conversation centers around Arjuna’s struggle. Krishna tries to lift his mind to the highest spiritual standpoint.
Krishna reminds him that while the physical body will eventually perish, the soul is immortal.
The soul is neither born nor does it ever die; nor having once existed, does it ever cease to be. The soul is without birth, eternal, immortal, and ageless. It is not destroyed when the body is destroyed. — Bhagavad Gita (Chapter 2, Verse 20)
It has been emphasized in the scriptures over and over again that death is simply the destruction of the body.
It got me thinking if the soul never dies and the self is eternal; why do we grieve? Do we grieve for the loss suffered or do we fear the change, the life without that person? I don't know.
Each one of us experiences fear. The fear of being stuck, or the fear of losing oneself. We want some sense of closure and understanding. As if it could fill the gaping void in the heart.
Dealing with it can be challenging when everyone around you is living a superficial life and attached to their material possessions, such as their home, their job, and their hunger for power or money; due to their lack of depth and substance. We never stop chasing superfluous things, the behavior of seeking solace from our material belongings. I believe that those worldly possessions enslave us, and bind our souls to the superficiality of it all. Rather than superficiality, I value depth. Maybe you do too.
Attachment to things and people causes us to carry baggage we accumulate along the way. We become attached, and change occurs. Being unattached allows us to be objective and not emotionally invested in the outcome.
Learning to embrace the unknown is important because change is the only constant.
Wrapping Up
The clock stops and it’s not fair. Our loved ones don’t go away, they will live in our hearts forever. And I believe one art we are poised to learn is losing. Mastering the art of losing is a path to inner peace and true liberation.
In Top Gun, where Maverick’s best friend and wingman is killed after failing to eject. In the final sequence, he repeats what he used to tell his late friend: “talk to me, Goose”. The iconic line aided him in guiding himself and, presumably, in finding strength.
I hope you too find the courage to realize your true power. I hope you have the strength to start over again.
