Writing is not cathartic, even though its feeling of release is present; it is not enlightening, however, it provokes critical thinking; it is not, above all, entertaining, nonetheless it transports you. I write in order to rationalize interiority, to catch emic experiences with a net. Everything, however, revolves and remains inside.
Monday, February 26, 2007
It is clear to me that funerals are sick, an archaic pseudo-ritual that in truth symbolizes that ever present disregard for our flesh that most have always shown one way or another. Funerals are also about perpetuating the moaners' sense of loss and longing... hardly an act of love from the dead one.
Some say that a conversion to ashes is not only poetic but also serves to give everybody a sense of closure. We as spirits definately say goodbye to our body, which swiftly runs through a river or travels across mountains. They, as moaners and lovers, know that, symbolically at least, you're free and one with the world... sans the fungus.
But what about donating your body to science? One could think this is hardly a spiritual act, and shows more love to oneself and our imperfect kindreds than Nature or any other Higher power. But at the same time, only when you truly get to that amazing certainty level of knowing that one is undeniably, absolutely disembodied once dead, only then could you truly understand what donating your body to science really means.
In a way, this action is of a strength of character that would scare more than one.
Moreover, putting your body to further use once its biological clock has ceased to tick may seem too philantrophic, but in reality it could also talk about a strong faith in Humanity, ie. that humans' knowledge can , through the examination of your corpse, help others. That your useless, stiff corpse could be useful to somebody one last time; helping future visitors of the Earth to live better.
Romantic? No, but highly spiritual... perhaps.
- ▼ February (3)