What was Here, Now is Not

Oxford Book of Death

by D. J. Enright

“No different, I said, from rat’s or chicken’s,

That ten-week protoplasmic blob. But you

Cried as if you knew all that was nonsense

And knew that I did, too.

Well, I had to say something. And there

Seemed so little anyone could say.

That life had been in women’s wombs before

And gone away?

This was our life. And yet, when the dead

Are mourned a little, then become unreal,

How should the never born be long remembered?

So this in time will heal

Though now I cannot comfort. As I go

The doctor reassures: ‘Straightforward case.

You’ll find of course, it leaves her rather low.’

Something is gone from your face.

~David Sutton (1944) (as cited in Enright 109)

             When does life begin? A frequently asked question to be sure; however, it is particular that when a child is lost before, during, or after birth, we attempt to soften the blow by saying that they never truly lived. In our hearts, though, we all know that it is not true, and the attempt does little to sooth, and ends up sounding shallow and petty. Also, the comment by the doctor is an understatement; “rather low” does not even begin to touch the depth of the pain experienced by a mother who lost her child. When a child dies it takes with it immeasurable amounts of hope, love, happiness, and dreams. 

Lost and Left Behind

The Oxford Book of Death

By D.J. Enright

“Dark house, by which once more I stand

Here in the unlovely street,

Doors, where my heart was used to beat

So quickly, waiting for a hand,

A hand that can be clasp’d no more—

Behold me, for I cannot sleep,

And like a guilty thing I creep

At earliest morning to the door.

He is not here; but far away

The noise of life begins again,

And ghastly thro’ the drizzling rain

On the bald street breaks the blank day

~Alfred Lord Tennyson (1809-92) (105) (as cited in Enright).

               When a person you care for passed from life and you are left behind, the night can be a terrible place. Activities have slowed down so memories from the past have an easier time fighting to the brink of conscious thought. Also memories that were created at night can be more vivid because there are fewer elements, such as noise, light, crowds etc, to blur them. Thus, night can be one of the most painful times for one who is in mourning. The shadows rule that time, and not just the shadows of light and dark, but the shadows of the past which found a temporary canvass upon which to project themselves; the canvass being the time when there are the fewest elements to take away from their full power. The depth of this poem achieves great lengths in portraying the pain that is experienced by those left behind, and truly captures the essence of the mourning period. 

I am by no means finished posting what I would like to tonight, however, I it necessary to pause my fingers until the morrow as tonight I will be celebrating a birth. See you in the sun. 

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Enso: free form circle

The Sacred Art of Dying

By Kenneth Kramer

“…four different faces of Zen: the sect within Buddhism, the heart of all Buddhism, the true center of all the world’s spiritualities, and the Zen beyond Zen, the no-Zen Zen” (58).

              To be quite honest I formally believed that Zen was a form of martial arts that focused (more than others) on finding one’s inner balance. I learn via visual and auditory, however, I also absorb much information by asking questions and or participating/observing activities. Because I have never been exposed to the Zen practices I am woefully ignorant in my understanding in that area. While reading the text I found it necessary to reread some sections in order to better (though not fully) understand the concepts of Zen.

“I come from the No Organizational Temple, and I bow to every Buddha” (58).

              I am not exactly why I do this, but I have a habit of comparing different world religions with each other. I do not mean comparing them with the religion I practice but with all other religions that I have a vague understanding with. A major similarity I observe in many religions is that they have different levels of devotion and worship. Also, following with the concept of the Zen monk belonging to the “No Organizational Temple”(58), numerous religions have followers who refer to themselves as nondenominational. 

Shall We Hurry and Meet Death?

The Oxford Book of Death

by

D. J. Enright

     "Then both ourselves and seed at once to free

From what we fear both, let us make short,

Let us seek Death, or he not found, supply

With our own hands his office on ourselves;

Why stand we longer shivering under fears

That show no end but death, and have the power,

Of many ways to die the shortest choosing,

Destruction with destruction to destroy?" (86-86)

~ Milton (as cited in Enright)

              Would it not be easier than going through the suffering that life has in store for us, to nip it in the bud and deny life its cruel pleasures? What is the point of living if we have to suffer? Its is quite ponderous, this topic. There is not real ultimate answer that will satisfy everyone; however, I will comment with my own opinion on the reasons why we must endure life. To me, we all are given this thing called life, because we have a purpose to forfill that will affect perhaps just one or thousands of individuals. We may never discover what our true purpose is. It could be to smile at a person on the street, or it could be to save the life of a trauma victim. These two tasks are no less important than the other; for example, smiling at the stranger in the street might encourage them to write the book that they have been thinking about--- and only decades after that smile, will that book be complete and impact the entire world. Or perhaps your purpose could be completely different; you yourself are to be the orchestrator of major changes within a region--- but you only carried it out because someone smiled at you in the street.

"Just as a landlord who has not received his rent pulls down the doors,

removes the rafters, and fills up the well, so I seem to be driven out

of this little body, when nature, which has let it to me, take away

one by one, eyes and ears, hands and feet. I will not therefore delay

longer, but will cheerfully depart as from a banquet (88).

~Gaius Rufus Musonius (as cited in Enright)

           Life has the potential to try us to our very souls. In some cases, it places individuals in a situation where there truly seems to be, no hope and a it is only the attention of others, even strangers that can liberate them, as was the case of David Pelzer in the book A Child Called "It" by David Pelzer. In other cases, the individual builds their own trap and lures themselves into it, as can be witnessed in some extreme compulsive gambling cases. Personally, there are only one way to proceed; the individual must not lose hope, and the must employ every positive, none destructive method available to them to better the situation they are in. I know I am phrasing this poorly, but if you could see into my head you would understand it perfectly, where I stand with this topic. Hope is the key to surviving Life's tortures.

What Drives Your Life? Please Do Not Tell Me the Taxi Driver

Success Built to Last

by

Jerry Porras, Stewart, and Mark Thompson

                 "It's just a fantasy that satisfies our compulsive need for a single magic pill for the happily ever after. But that kind of thinking is also the source of enormous frustration if you deny yourself everything else you've got going for you in life" (53) (as cited in Porras).

                This entire concept of a one quick fix, I find to be completely misleading and I worry about those who believe it. There is nothing in this world that really matters the does not involve several steps; from the creation of a red blood cell, to the treatment on a disorder, to repair of a car, to the writing of this blog. You cannot hope to achieve an ultimate goal that is meaningful with out preforming numerous tasks (yes some steps will be extremely difficult). A person cannot take a pill or have an operation and expect to feel completely better, rather the pill/operation is only one step. the individual may find necessary in order to regain and maintain their health. These steps can include: changing a diet, participating in therapy, altering a lifestyle and countless other assertive actions. 

            

A Parallel Universe,

Book Review:

         When I first heard about Karen Hancock’s novel Arena, it was because of a reading contest in my sophomore year of high-school. Upon reading the description what appealed to me most was the fact that it was a fantasy and it had, what seemed to be a more original sci-fi-ish story-line. Wow, did I underestimate this book.

        The novel by Karen Hancock beautifully tells the story of how a young woman, Callie Hays becomes trapped in an alien world where she has limited resources and there are dangers everywhere. Of the traps is the alien world, the other humans trapped with her provide one of the most dangerous snares in Callie’s effort to survive.

         As the tale progresses, Callie discovers that she has been brought to the alien world along with the other humans to be witnesses to goodness and love of the Lord ruler alien, Elhanu. There is also a tempter in this story whose name is Prince Cephelus. This antagonist is a fallen prince who seeks to lure the human’s love and loyalty away from Elhanu and through his deception many humans find temporary pleasure and happiness, however, it is a trap and some humans who fully embrace these temptations are turned into trogs who are evil creatures that seek to harm individuals who maintain their humanity.

          Does this sound familiar yet? It took me two times reading this book to fully understand that this book reflects the Bible and brilliantly portrays the truth of Jesus and his love for all individuals.         

           The true identity of Elhanu is identified in chapter 25:

                   “Elhanu grinned---…’And you were wondering why in the world I play this little

           game, aren’t you?’

                     They glanced at one another uncertainly.

                     The Aggillon leader sobered. ‘It’s not a game. You need to trust me. This’ ---he

           Gestured at himself--- ‘seems to help.’

                     Again his words met silence. Then Whit shook his head. ‘But that isn’t really

            you, is it sir? I mean, you look like somebody’s father, when you’re anything but.’

                     ‘Here, I am your father,’ Elhanu said quietly. ‘In more ways than you know. And   

           there is nothing false in this image I present to you.’

                     ‘Except that it isn’t real.’

                      Elhanu smiled. ‘It may not be all that I am, but it is very real. And certainly it is

           the most comfortable for you right now.’

           ‘Will we ever see you as you really are, sir?’ Callie asked.

           ‘Eventually’” (302-303)

           This quote is so important to the purpose of the book, it is amazing. Elhanu is revealing to the humans, who have made it to a certain point in their pilgrimage, that he is their father. In a beautiful way Karen Hancock has paralleled Elhanu, the ruler to the alien race, Aggillon, to Jesus, who is my savior.

         With the help of some symbolism, this book also could be interpreted as an allegory for John Bunyan’s Pilgrims Progress. Callie, who portrays Christian, has a friend with her in the beginning, who decides, when troubles arise, that she would be better off going a different way. When Callie is teleported into the alien arena, she is instructed to stay on the white road and she will be able to make it out of the arena safely. Only when she diverges from the white road on to a ‘suckers path’ does she end up in trouble. “’Look back the way you’ve come.’ He gestured over his shoulder. ‘It isn’t white, it’s pink. You’re on a sucker path’” (39). It is only much later that Callie, like Christian, realizes her mistake and returns to the path. Another parallel with Pilgrims Progress is that when Callie finds herself in the arena, she has been given a few supplies and among them, is that is referred to as the Manual throughout the book. The Manual is a book that has pretty much all the information that Callie needs to make it through the arena. The Manual is quite obviously a parallel of the Bible, which aids a Christian through the trials of his faith.   

          Karen Hancock’s novel Arena, helps me understand some of the massages the Bible presents. The setting of the book is in modern times and use many phrases that I am familiar with, thus I was able to relate more closely to the story. The text put into perspective, for me, the journey experienced by Christians and brought the challenges and difficulties closer to home for me.

         Every time I read this novel I notice new messages or new subtleties that I did not notice in the previous times I read it. One part of this book that I find somewhat challenging is picturing in my mind some of the descriptions of the scenery, creatures and actions moments. Particularly, the action scenes were a bit difficult to follow, though I could follow the results easily enough, however, it was a bit trying to comprehend what was happening during, say, a very violent battle scene.

         Especially, when Callie is defending her new faith to her best friend, I find that, as a Christian, I can relate to the difficulty and pain sometimes created by defending what I believe in. Also, I understand the amazing feeling when I stick to my principles and beliefs, and not back down.   

         This text means a lot to me because of the understanding that it helps me gain and the hope that it gives me. You should definitely read this novel.

Citation:

Hancock, Karen. Arena. Bloomington: Bethany House Publishers, 2002

Fear, Anticipation, Mystery, Finality: The Hour of Death

The Oxford Book of Death

by

D.J. Enright

"Death does not leave us body enough to occupy any space, and only the tombs there preserve some shape;..."

~ Bossuet (1670) (as cited in Enright 44)

           When we die, death strips us of everything. Our body is still there, however it is reduced to merely anatomy. Someone could look at the body; they will find a cardiovascular system, a nervous system, a muscle system, a reproductive system, and a digestive system, but the "thing." the part of the organism that makes us different, that makes us truly unique, the essence of the individual is gone. Personally, I can take the word tombs, in this case, to define two different things. The first definition is the the tomb is the body and even in death, the body maintains some semblance of the individual who formally resided within it. Tomb could also literally mean tomb or grave where the remaining semblance of a person is preserved. 

"Because I could not stop for Death--

He kindly stopped for me--

The Carriage held but just Ourselves--

And Immortality.

We slowly drove-- He knew no haste

And I had put away

My labour and my leisure too,

For his civility--

We passed the School, where Children strove

At Recess-- in the Ring--

We passed Fields of Gazing Grain--

We passed the Setting Sun--

Or rather-- He passed Us--

The Dews drew quivering and chill--

For only Gossamer, my Gown--

My Tippet-- only Tulle--

We pauses before a House that seemed

A Swelling of the Ground--

The Roof was scarcely visible--

The Cornice--in the Ground--

Since then--'tis Centuries-- and yet

Feels shorter than the Day

I first surmised the Horses' Heads 

Were towards Eternity--"

~Emily Dickinson (1830-86) (as cited in Enright 50-51).

               Without getting extremely personal, it is imposable to convey how much and why this poem means so much to me, however, I will say that Emily is one of my favorite poets largely due to this poem. These words encourage me to ponder on my own brush with death and not only that it helps me cope with the memories.

"I have come to the boarder of sleep,

The unfathomable deep

Forest, where all must lose

Their way, however straight

Or winding, soon or late;

They can not choose"

~Edward Thomas (1878-1917) (as cited in Enright).

               I positively love the forest. My whole family does. I grew up going camping, hiking and exploring within the shadows of tall trees, crunching leaves, identifying flowers and plants and generally inhaling joy from the life growing around me. When this poem refers to Death as a forest, it soothes me, and comforts me because, after all I have been there before.