Well, I didn't get very far with my January Thaw. Lacking the product, however, I have been very involved in the process. Somehow I always feel that just around the corner is the sublime answer to life, but it's not. As you can see, I haven't found much to share. I felt a flicker when I read Emily's poem, "Conclusion", but a lot of irrelevant thoughts came chattering in, interrupting my focus and my composure.
What thoughts? My thoughts have evoked lots of questions, but no answers. Does our desire for something beyond bring forth images of the rainbow bridge, a white light, a perfect world with golden streets and lollypop trees? Is the fact that we can imagine a utopia an indication of ultimate reality?
Or are we doomed to dust? Paul said that if this is true, mankind is the most sad of creatures, for we know of our end and we are aware of our life. Why this awareness? Why am I so aware of my self and yet find your thoughts foreign and distant?
I was struck by Johnny Carson's comment that he would like to do it all over again. So would I. I envy the Hindu and their dream of reincarnation, and I would love to know that there is a happy hunting ground somewhere waiting for us all.
On his deathbed, Henry Thoreau was asked about his view of the next world, and he answered, "One world at a time." He also is reported to have breathed the words, "Indian" and "forest". This would be in keeping with his idea of nature as the perfect habitat. Perhaps that was his heaven.
When my father died, his eyes opened wide two or three times, and he looked at me with a fierce need to tell me something - but speech was not possible. I so wonder what he saw. I dreamed later that he appeared to me and said, "Don't worry. Everything's just fine." Comforting, but inconclusive.
This life should come with an accompanying set of directions: "How to live and how to die." Instead we have ambiguity.
