There has been a lot of love for Prince of late, due to his recent passing. I don't want to be crass, but how many people giving all the "Prince was the soundtrack of my life" comments on social media sought out his music prior to the announcement? To be honest, I really can't remember the last time I looked at my music collection and thought, "Man, I can really use me some Prince."
(Note: We DO have some Prince in our music collection.)
2016 has been pretty awful when looking at celebrity deaths, and it's not even half over. Yet, though the deaths have been tragic (come on, Prince at 57?!?), the outpouring on social media seems way out of balance compared to the impact of the person when they were alive. Yes, David Bowie passed before his "golden years", Natalie Cole sang an "unforgettable" tune with her late father, and Alan Rickman truly "snaped" us with his every performance. But honestly, until the announcements, did you even think of these people?
Like I had written previously: "during such tragedies we are faced with our OWN mortality. And coming face-to-face with finitude has a way of bringing out compassion - for those we haven't seen, or even consciously thought of, for a long time."
And perhaps that is the reason we DO reach out via social media - to find comfort and compassion with our fellow mortals. And upon reflection, that is really okay.
R.I.P. Prince
©Emittravel 2016
Showing posts with label death. Show all posts
Showing posts with label death. Show all posts
Sunday, April 24, 2016
Sunday, January 31, 2016
Not a Space in the Lot
Last week my wife and I went to a funeral home to attend a wake.
When we arrived, shortly after the calling hours were to start, we found that there was not a single parking space available. Anywhere. Not only were all of the spaces filled, but cars were parked along the outskirts of the lot, making it one-way traffic only (which was a pain when a car approached from the other way). Not only was the parking lot for the funeral home full, but people had filled the lot for the building next door. Not only was the lot for the building next door full, but people were parking across the street and crossing a very busy state route to attend.
A pastor once said that even Jesus had his levels of intimacy. He had the 70, then the 12 (disciples), then the three (Peter, James, and John), and then the one (John - the only one at the cross). Layers, better known as circles, of intimacy are common to each and every one of us. No one can honestly count the hundreds of "friends" on Facebook as being part of ones "inner circle".
So, when I asked my wife if it was okay if we just left, she was okay with it. You see, though we knew the one who departed and the surviving family, we were not that close. We were part of the outer circle.
I want to say what everyone says, this person "died too young." Indeed, she WAS too young. When the life expectancy of a female is 80+ (as of 2010 statistics), 48 is way too young.
I came to the conclusion years ago that old age is 15 years from wherever you are at. When you were 15, 30 was OLD. When you were 25, 30 was not old at all - 40 was old. Yet, somewhere along the line, as we find ourselves with more calendar pages flipped than we have left, that conclusion gets reversed. As a 50-year old, I can honestly say that 65 is no longer old to me. But 35? That's YOUNG!
There wasn't a parking space in the lot available. Nor in the lot next door. And the one across the street was filling up rapidly. For sure, many different circles of intimacy were represented. How many were there from outer circles like us? And why were they there?
Of course, there was the care and comfort of the family. And that is good. But I think there is another, more unspoken reason: during such tragedies we are faced with our OWN mortality. And coming face-to-face with finitude has a way of bringing out compassion - for those we haven't seen, or even consciously thought of, for a long time.
May I suggest something? The next time someone crosses your mind, even if that thought feels so out of the blue, take the time to reach out to that person. Remember, more than oil or natural gas, time is the most limited resource we have. And once it's gone, it's gone.
(In solemn remembrance of Wendy Houlahan. Go with God.)
©Emittravel 2016
When we arrived, shortly after the calling hours were to start, we found that there was not a single parking space available. Anywhere. Not only were all of the spaces filled, but cars were parked along the outskirts of the lot, making it one-way traffic only (which was a pain when a car approached from the other way). Not only was the parking lot for the funeral home full, but people had filled the lot for the building next door. Not only was the lot for the building next door full, but people were parking across the street and crossing a very busy state route to attend.
A pastor once said that even Jesus had his levels of intimacy. He had the 70, then the 12 (disciples), then the three (Peter, James, and John), and then the one (John - the only one at the cross). Layers, better known as circles, of intimacy are common to each and every one of us. No one can honestly count the hundreds of "friends" on Facebook as being part of ones "inner circle".
So, when I asked my wife if it was okay if we just left, she was okay with it. You see, though we knew the one who departed and the surviving family, we were not that close. We were part of the outer circle.
I want to say what everyone says, this person "died too young." Indeed, she WAS too young. When the life expectancy of a female is 80+ (as of 2010 statistics), 48 is way too young.
I came to the conclusion years ago that old age is 15 years from wherever you are at. When you were 15, 30 was OLD. When you were 25, 30 was not old at all - 40 was old. Yet, somewhere along the line, as we find ourselves with more calendar pages flipped than we have left, that conclusion gets reversed. As a 50-year old, I can honestly say that 65 is no longer old to me. But 35? That's YOUNG!
There wasn't a parking space in the lot available. Nor in the lot next door. And the one across the street was filling up rapidly. For sure, many different circles of intimacy were represented. How many were there from outer circles like us? And why were they there?
Of course, there was the care and comfort of the family. And that is good. But I think there is another, more unspoken reason: during such tragedies we are faced with our OWN mortality. And coming face-to-face with finitude has a way of bringing out compassion - for those we haven't seen, or even consciously thought of, for a long time.
May I suggest something? The next time someone crosses your mind, even if that thought feels so out of the blue, take the time to reach out to that person. Remember, more than oil or natural gas, time is the most limited resource we have. And once it's gone, it's gone.
(In solemn remembrance of Wendy Houlahan. Go with God.)
©Emittravel 2016
Sunday, February 15, 2015
Just a Blink of an Eye
A single breath in passing
A moment and it's gone
A thought grasped but slipping
The pain it feels so wrong
We focus on the moment
Each life to us we face
Soon buried in the rubble
Forever be the chase
To hang on one more second
To make each minute count
Find peace in single hour
Last day for each surmount
What drives the inside hunger
The pangs for just one more
To glean the effervescence
Of lives beyond three score
To find the hope and beauty
To cling to love and mate
To live beyond the total
Escape the claws of fate
If I said "goodbye" now
Left the sand and rust
Would tomorrow forget me
In beams of light like dust
I reach for words of meaning
To share with what I've found
But through my tears I'm humbled
My voice has lost its sound
For each life is but passing
Each friendship one day cease
No value found in fighting
In acceptance is found peace
J.P. Wiegand
© Emittravel 2015
I was reading a blog that talked of how fleeting our lives actually are; in the grand scheme of the universe. There was a deep ache that formed in me and I needed to express it.
Have you ever noticed that you exist? Can you remember a time when you didn't? No wonder we can't imagine not existing in the future. We hunger for life after death - or more appropriately, never-ceasing life. We exercise, Botox, pray, and smear things on ourselves, all in order to keep the Not-So-Pleasant Reaper from knocking on our doors.
One who lives a philosophy that all there is is the now of life, is living such a life in misery - in my humble but accurate opinion. -j.p.
© Emittravel 2015
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)