the brevity of life

just the other day, a friend of mine requested me to help her conduct the funeral service of her dadwho died of a lingering sickness in the hospital. I, of course, was only too willing to oblige as i myself may not be far from needing such an assistance from my friends. this made me think of the shortness of even the longest lifespan here on earth.

human existence in this world is extremely brief. it's like a flower that blooms for a while, like a shadow which disappear when the sun shines, like a vapor which passes away at the twinkling of an eye, like "a tale that is told" momentarily.

Just how short is the tale of your life? well, first you're born in this world. you grow up as an infant. you spend your carefree childhood days under some parental roof. you develop into a young person full of dreams, aspirations and idealism. you get married and raise a family, perhaps establish yourself in a business or in some profession and prosper somewhat in middle age. then comes retirement, the white hair, the failing eyesight, the short steps, the arthritis. after fighting life's final war with pain comes the little procession of your loved ones and a circle of friends and neighbors to some memorial park, and all that's left to remind those who'll survive you that you had once walked with in this vale of tears is a small mound of earth with a piece of marble slab on it bearing your name.

and lets remember too that life hangs by a very fragile thread. perhaps a virus, maybe a vehicular accident, perchance a heart attack, or possibly even a stray bullet may cause you to be rushed to the emergency room or the ICU of some hospital. . . and then the beginning of the end. the grand finale doesn't vary too much from person to person. you may succumb to a coma first, and this maybe followed by a period. such is the short tale of your life and mine, which shows that we're still in the territory of the enemy.

inspite of the brevity of our human life in this world, aren't you glad you're still alive up to this moment, especially when you think of the high cost of funerals these days? as for me, the reason why I'm still opting to live in spite of the hard times is because i can't afford to die yet. but when the inevitable comes, whether you like it or not, you'll simply have to say goodbye to everything in this life. hardly are we born when we begin to die. the countdown starts the moment we commence life's journey. . .

we're like fish out of the water--gasping for breath when we find ourselves on land instead of the deep ocean. we feel stress and anxiety because of the material world doesn't satisfy our longing for security. like fish struggling to survive on land, we find the struggle for existence burdensome and difficult. we're unhappy because we're not home. we're eternal beings trying to fit into a temporary dimension. yet, when we're called back to the cool confines of our real home, we object, question, argue and rebel. we rationalize: "I'm happy despite the confusion, drug addiction, diseases and broken relationships. why go into the ocean? great sages teach us: you can swim because you're a fish. its natural for you to be in the ocean. don't worry. your real home- the spiritual world, not the material realm- will bring you comfort. their message is found in the simple poem i read a couple of days ago:

we're spirit souls, like fish out of the water

we think our bodies are made of matter

we believe this world is our home

yet, we feel alone and out of place

if we seek our natural condition

we'll find peace and satisfaction

swim out there, dive into the ocean of love

then we'll find shelter in God's embrace

dear fish, stop struggling on land

place your heart and mind in God's hand

the kind of people i want to be with

i like to be with people who are broadminded. usually, those with narrow understanding of things are intolerant and think they are the ones who are right. those who know little think they know much. but the more you know, the more you know that you know little. you realize that what you know really is very infinitesimal compared to what there is to know.

i want to be with people who are intelligent enough to be aware of their environment and themselves, who just don't do things just because others do them.

i am turned off by people who are arrogant and proud. those who talk and talk about themselves and their achievements, they could make me feel that i am nothing. maybe it takes maturity to tolerate haughty personalities, those who are fond of massaging their ego, those who use people for selfish reasons.

i would enjoy the company of people who are sincere, honest, down-to-earth and enthusiastic about life

. . . im always in awe of people who could write, who could use the nibs of their pens to paint words on paper canvas. many times i've been breathless with suspense or heavy-hearted or teary-eyed or laughing while reading a book.
i admire people who can use words with such precision that one can almost smell the scent of newly cut grass after a brief downpour or taste a hearty or sumptuous feast.
as for me, i'm thankful for the talents He has given moi.

. . . the friends i can talk to when i dont want to talk about it and for this i am grateful

of love and courage

Walking down a path through some woods, i saw a water puddle ahead on the path. i angled my direction to go around it, on the part of the path that wasn't covered by water and mud. But as i reached the puddle, i was suddenly attacked! Yet i did nothing for the attack was so unpredictable and from the source so totally unexpected. I was startled as well as unhurt, despite having been struck four or five times already. I backed up a foot and my attacker stopped. Instead, he hovered in the air, on graceful butterfly wings, in front of me. Had i been hurt, i wouldn't have found it amusing. But i was unhurt, it was funny, and i was laughing. After all, i was being "attacked" by a butterfly!
Having stopped laughing, i took a step forward. My attaaker rushed me again. He ramned me in the chest with his head and body, striking me over and over again with all his might- still to no avail. For the second time, i retreated a step while my attacker relented in his motion. Yet again, i tried moving forward. My attacker charge me again! I was ramned in the chest over and over that i wasn't sure what to do, other than to retreat a third time. After all, its not just everyday that one is "attacked" by a butterfly! This time, though, i stepped back several paces to look the situation over.
My attacker moved back, only to land on the ground. That's when i discovered why the butterfly was charging me only moments earlier. He had a mate, and she was dying. She was beside the puddle where he'd landed. Sitting close beside her, the butterfly opened and closed his wings as if to fan her. I could only admire the love and courage of that butterfy in his concern for his mate. He had taken it upon himself to attack me for his mate's sake, eventhough she was clearly dying, and i was so large. He did so just to give her those extra few precious moments of life, anxious that i might have been careless enough to step on her.
Now i knew why and what he is fighting for. There was really only one option left for me. I carefully made my way around the puddle on the other side of the path though it was only inches wide and extremely muddy.
His courage in attacking something thousand of times larger and heavier than himself, just for his mate's safety, justified it. I just had to reward him by walking on a more difficult side of the puddle. He had truly earned those moments to be with her undisturbed. I left them in peace for those last few moments, cleaning the mud from my flip flops when i later reached home.
These days, I always try to remember the courage of that butterfly whenever i see huge obstacles facing me. I use the butterfly's courage as an inspiration--and to remind myself that good things are worth fighting for.