Pilgrim Soul.

Pilgrim Soul – those words seem to have a special meaning for me. And I am not sure why. Possibly because the memory of my wife and best friend Magucha, who died three years ago is ever present. As far as I’m concerned she most certainly had a soul! And I like to think her soul is out there somewhere, helping and nurturing – always busy. Just like when she was “alive”.

I suppose it is also the fact that no one knows what “Life” is, why “Life” exists or where it was first evidenced. Furthermore the question remains to be answered - what is that essence, that vivifying force we call “Life” that is present when a living organism is “alive” but is absent or withdrawn when something that was “alive” is now “dead”? 

Science has no answer. This is the ultimate question that I think all philosophers seek to answer and is the basis (so I understand) of all what are termed “scriptures”, and is the basis (again, so I understand) of all religions. 

The mental image of a soul – that Life essence (however it is named) searching for a home – somewhere to express itself, it’s Life, resonates with me. Where was it’s original home? Where did it come from? It is certainly present in “seeds”; seeds from all biological organisms. These geminate and grow. The Earth we inhabit and share with millions of different life forms is testament to their variety and their beauty. 

But why? And will we ever know? Maybe Shakespeare was correct when he has Hamlet saying, 

“The undiscovered country from whose bourn

            No traveller returns, puzzles the will.”

I believe that there a continuum – there is “Life” and there is “Death” – that one leads on to the other. Just the way it is. Not to be feared. Rather this chain of events, this grand progression, is to be welcomed (so I like to imagine it) as a manifestation of something wonderful, of a grandeur that is always just beyond my reach and comprehension. 

It is, after all where we will all end up! But I would really like to know.

So will my "pilgrim soul" keep on it's journey, meeting other wayfarers and dear companions on the way? Until .....?

Love - the greatest gift of all

I know that I have written on this subject before but it is still something that, as I get older, is of interest – grief, mourning and the cause. There is after all only one end to life. But this subject, for some reason, is studiously avoided. So while I’m not sure how to introduce this I find that grief has many facets and is very puzzling. We are, after all, mortal beings. Trying to make sense of death, however, is very hard. We will all, at some stage of our life, have cause to grieve and mourn. 

There was, in my case, the death of my wife Magucha whom I dearly loved.

Then there is, now, the harsh reality, still not fully absorbed, that my life will never be the same. Her love, her intelligence, her insight, her emotional support, her wonderfully infectious laugh, her mischievous quirky humour – is now all gone.

Then, now for me, there is the settling into a new way of life that is part acknowledgement of her memory and the way we used to do things together and part acknowledgement that from now on I’m on my own without her at my side. This is still a work in progress.

Then there is most difficult part of my day, not so strange really I suppose, difficulty in actually going to bed. I defer this necessary function until the last possible moment – 12 mid-night, even 1am. Then I might read for a few minutes before I “crash”. Once asleep I sleep well. It’s just getting the “courage” to actually go to bed. Bed is not the same now, you understand.

Then there are my own questions. But I do believe in something that is above and beyond us all to which we are “attached” by the essence that common to all living things - Life itself. Call this God if you like.  And then where did my Life come from – the same place it will return to? It makes sense to me, that death is a “transition” from this life to the next – just as a birth transitioned me from “that place” to this. This is a subject we, all of us, usually avoid, ignore or change the subject when it is introduced. Why?

Then there is the problem that we humans are unable to imagine “God”, or conceptualise “God”, so we bring “Him” down to our level and imbue “Him” with human attributes that we can understand – passion, hate, vengeance, anger, jealousy and such like. Reduced to this level we now need to propitiate “God” and get “Him” to agree to our point of view – hence the requirement for sacrifices (hopefully symbolic). Is this because humans are all supposed to be born sinful (because of Adam and Eve)? With a sacrifice, it is posited, we can attach our “sins” to whatever, or whoever is sacrificed, and so be absolved of “sin” and be “cleansed”.  

Surely, surely, any God who can be “altered” by anything men do or say, or by the sacrifice of an animal or human (even if symbolic) cannot be a perfect God? God, surely, doesn’t need a reward? God, surely, cannot be bribed? Why load, even symbolically, some poor animal or human (that God created in the first place) with the wrongs that we commit?

But personal sacrifice is a different matter. Is this what grief is – a form of personal sacrifice? That the more we love the more we grieve?

I believe there is a Spanish proverb that goes something like this: “Take what you want from Life, says God. Take it, and pay.”

And so it should be – we reap what we sow! The Law of Cause and Effect applies to all. This is justice and by my book, this is Love – maybe tough love – but Love none the less.

I like to think that this place, this planet Earth, is but a school for what comes next. We all need this school, to learn to Love – and to forgive.

All this, of course, gets me no closer to understanding what Life is; that “essence” that is present when something is “alive” and is absent when something that was “alive” is now “dead”.  

To me “God” is pure Love and understanding - this is “His” greatest gift of all, even if it is the most difficult to accept.

This is all rather circular and brings me back to the point where I started. I still grieve.

We are the Pilgrims, master; we shall go

    Always a little further; it may be

Beyond that last blue mountain barred with snow,

    Across that angry or that glimmering sea,

White on a throne or guarded in a cave

    There lives a prophet who can understand

Why men were born; but surely we are brave,

    Who take the Golden Road to Samarkand.

                                                            James Elroy Flecker