I'll tell you: The sweet just ain't as sweet, without the sour. Chill out, like a 30th century man; make time irrelevant. Time works through you; it passes through you and around you, not something to be controlled. Or, be a working man; rush. Either way.
Life is sweet, not many people would argue about that. But it can also be a tragedy; also bitterness, sadness is present right along with the sweet. And why it can be so hard to let go of life in the end, when death shows up at your door?
For me, it helps to be in a forest ... around trees... wooded lands.... then One of them will feel me form an idea, an inner idea. Have you ever heard a tree grow?
Life is a great hurricane, and consciousness is alone, in the center, in the eye of the storm, and the rushing part is life, swirling past us whether we do anything or not. So the choice is to remain centered, in calm, amongst all the bustle of life. Or not. What has concerned me after every funeral I have attended has been: what are all of these people doing? Driving around, living their lives, going about life as if nothing had happened. "But a dear relative, someone close to me has died, how can you go on," I say? ... I never get an answer, and the question lingers around my head like a cloud.
Billy Collins: Look him up. Every time I read his work I find a sort of solace, not any answers to life's big questions, but at least there is somebody out there who is bumping up into the same sort of questions -- about life, and about death -- that I am. Life goes on without you; that is one thing I know.
She came into the lake with me: it touched me, at an emotional level, since I knew it was really really uncomfortably cold for her. We were in a peaceful mountain lake, in the northern part of the Olympic peninsula, in the Pacific northwest. She didn't have to follow me in, but she did. The fact that she decided to come in and share in the experience of swimming in a freezing mountain spring lake, calmed me somewhat, and strengthened my respect for her, and somehow my connection to her grew.
The water did great things to my system, cooling me down, cleansing my body; we had been hiking in the nearby forest... There was a great tree stump a far ways into the water, and people were climbing, jumping off it, and diving into the water. Even when you're dead, you cannot not participate with life. This tree was what I call a giving tree. Dead in the water, and even so, it had an ability to bring joy to people, contributing to Life all around it.
Shel Silverstein's book: The Giving Tree. Look it up; I recommend it..
The band "The Cure" sings Boys Don't Cry, but I know men do, at least. When I see light that is beyond the mirror of the reflected life of the outside world, I cry. It's usually around someone I love, or feeling something about someone I love. When I'm crying I can see the light behind everything in the world, and the light is beautiful. I love to cry; I thank the tears each time they come, be they sweet or sour.
Chinese, anyone? I'm hungry....... a small joke.... :)