posted on Jan, 10 2012 @ 05:52 AM
Quiet often in life we are able to hide our true emotions, our real feelings. So much so that we can almost forget that we have them. Death and
illness can at times help us recognise aspect we abhor and would rather deny. When the grim reaper leaves his calling card, we begin to question
almost everything we do.
The medieval Book of hours illustrates this in a special way.
When I was 17 or so I was walking in the middle of an Andaluz town on a sunny afternoon. When closely behind me I heard this rather large thud,
immediately I turned around with my heart beating hard. There laid the dead body of a middle aged lady, there was no doubt to me that she was dead.
How close I had been to joining her on her venture. She had decided to leap of a high balcony and bring her pain to an end. For quiet some time, it
made me take a second look at life and the reasons we live and relate. How quick a body turns from being alive to dead, we are all as fragile as a
Each culture has their way of treating death, some more direct than other. The problem with ignoring death and making it a very clean affair, is we
value only youth and the old are pushed aside. What could they offer, if they are on the way to leaving life. The youth are raised up to be gods, the
was a time when all seasons where considered in life. Now, spring alone is always the best.
I write this not out of fascination towards death, but more so as a reflection towards finding true meaning in our life. This meaning is never really
given to us, only the opportunity to give life meaning by what we believe is worthy of such. At times now I am able to see death in the living and
life in the dying. So lets be brave and dance.