Well. I published that last post.
*stares into the mirror of my psyche*
It is so uncomfortable to say quiet thoughts out loud about the things I cannot know. It is so uncomfortable!!!
I’m exploring why this is. It brings up a lot of grief to consider .. just the possibility that there might not be anything more to life than this. Even just thinking the thought, almost physically hurts. I want to say.. “no! I know the future. I know there will be Heaven. I have faith .. yada yada yada.” I really want to. It would resolve this feeling so neatly.
I ask myself why it matters. I think it matters because I grieve how quickly life is passing, and opportunities I feel I’ve lost that will never return. I grieve my lost physical health. I grieve lost relationshiphs. I grieve people who’ve died who I really would like to see again. I grieve the loss of the person I used to be, too- the person who had certainty about everything. I grieve the loss of that certainty, I think. As destructive as the certainty was, at times, I grieve the loss of the comfort within it.
I think that there is something of value to be found in this reflection of “what if.” I think it is that… every single thing that I mentioned grieving, I need to grieve, rather than negate with faith/hope. I need to full process the pain of feeling I’ve lost time, opportunity, and people, without short-circuiting that grief with some sort of statement about the future, or some sort of “it’s all worth it/God has a plan, etc” moralizing statement.
At the end of the day… I still have faith in Heaven. But I do not want that to be used as a way to short-circuit the grief of having lived. And I do not want to live in such a way that, if I were to be wrong about Heaven, I would have wanted to go back and live differently.
It scares me as a question to even consider. I want to lean into why it terrifies me so much.
I think it terrifies me because if there is no Heaven, then the yearning for importance that I have must be met in this life. That’s what it is, I think. Importance? Maybe that isn’t quite the right word. To have my life have happened and be noticed, I think, just like a bird on the branch of a tree, that someone might see, and notice, and say, oh, look, there’s a bird there.
I don’t want the legacy of my life to be… whatever someone might say at my funeral. “Oh, she was joyful and musical, and loved her kids.” Ok. I mean. If that’s true, and people say it, ok.
Do you know what I mean? Is it a yearning for immortality? Is it a yearning for something greater than the world, greater than this? Is it something that drives humanity beyond the rudimentary?
Anyway apparently I need to stop writing and do the things I need to do today but for some reason I wanted to write this Part 2. To acknowledge the pain of grief.
And also… if I had to place bets.. I’d bet on Heaven. Whether I do that for survival of the spirit or not, that’s where I land. But the takeaway for me is that I want to fully grieve every pain that comes up when I consider the possibility that I might be wrong about that, and I want to live in a way that I will feel good about, regardless.
I want each of us to feel seen, and like our life has mattered. 🐦
The neighbors are playing “Good Vibrations” by The Beach Boys on their speakers in the backyard. You know? That is a good song. Also “She’s giving me excitations” is.. um. Guess they went ahead and put that right in the lyrics! Good for them, I love this for them.
