My first love died last week. My best friend from high school died a couple years ago. Many others I have know have also died over the years, but these two really hurt, especially this last one. These were my contemporaries. I remember them as healthy and vivid able-bodied people who, compared to their disabled friend (me) had bright and long futures ahead of them. I knew them when there were serious questions of living at all due to all the medical issues I was going through, nonetheless how long I might live. I never in a million years would have guessed that I am still alive at 57, partly because of all I have gone through and partly because disabled people like myself tend not to have very long lives. My body is a broken down mess. I am just coming back from a week-long illness that had me on the verge of calling 911 I felt so bad. And here it is that I have outlived them! It makes no sense. How is it that I am still alive and they are not? Why? Something seems very wrong about this.
My mom said it's because I am doing God's work and that I am special. But I don't buy any of that for even one minute; it's just not true. Everyone is special, and everyone is doing God's work, in my Buddhist view. So her answers, while very mom-ishly meant as helpful, offer no comfort and my questions linger.
Why do I even want comfort? What would meaningful comfort for my suffering even look like? I don't know. All I have right now are questions, such seems my existence in the face of these sad events. And Buddhism tells me that's okay. Just live the questions. If there are any answers, live life to reveal them. And if not, then live life anyway. I saw the Calvin and Hobbes cartoon below a couple weeks ago and thought of it as I have been dealing with my questions. Substitute out reincarnation for anything I am asking and the final panel still works, because it doesn't really matter so much what the questions are as it does about living life, so I just keep steering the best I can.
Thanks for letting me share my small problem about life's passage.
My mom said it's because I am doing God's work and that I am special. But I don't buy any of that for even one minute; it's just not true. Everyone is special, and everyone is doing God's work, in my Buddhist view. So her answers, while very mom-ishly meant as helpful, offer no comfort and my questions linger.
Why do I even want comfort? What would meaningful comfort for my suffering even look like? I don't know. All I have right now are questions, such seems my existence in the face of these sad events. And Buddhism tells me that's okay. Just live the questions. If there are any answers, live life to reveal them. And if not, then live life anyway. I saw the Calvin and Hobbes cartoon below a couple weeks ago and thought of it as I have been dealing with my questions. Substitute out reincarnation for anything I am asking and the final panel still works, because it doesn't really matter so much what the questions are as it does about living life, so I just keep steering the best I can.
Thanks for letting me share my small problem about life's passage.
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