Truth is a reality checking process in the mind. It can operate in a healthy fashion, or get twisted, or can just be totally eschewed for a strictly relativistic artifice that excuses any stance as just what’s in fad of the mental moment.
What is celebration?
To mark the significance of. However, that is also done at a funeral. Celebrating a persons life. This is true. I see a funeral as a final birthday, which is actually a common attitude in animist cultures like those that follow voodoo. Seen one way, a funeral is just the culmination of life. If the person was miserable, there is now peace. If the person was happy, there is now rest, and it is where we are all going. Some people fear funerals, but I would ask you this. Do you remember what it was like before you were born?
Celebration. We actually do it all the time or have the chance to. Celebration is the bringing forth into awareness of any event, and we don’t always celebrate things we would want to. Nor do people consider that they celebrate things they abhor, but they do. Often more than things that bring them joy.
It seems the biggest moment of anyone’s life is their death. Deaths are nexi. The world is a web of them. Turning points. At each turn, death waits. At each turn, so does your soul itself wait. Ultimately, some say we celebrate life, but what is life that we can celebrate it? As if it were some single thing?
You are self aware because you have thoughts or perceptions. What are thoughts? Forms that occur in our beings and play themselves out in our behaviour. Death has forms, patterns, and a place in life.
Thoughts are reminding me that I am alive? Thought is a reflection of all existence. Though in the case of humans rather narrow. The “thoughts” or forms of death are much broader as are the same events in the presence that some have called the Great Mother.
I hear people say that an “old” self dies after they go through something traumatic even if they physically do not. Which does actually relate to the topic of Celebration. An old self does indeed die, and in general it’s a mercy. But here is the thing. There is no death, just gates. A broad web and the forms and intelligence behind it. All that you have now you received from another source. The air you breath, your flesh and blood, even the concepts that were communicated to you, experiences you have shared with others, all borrowed.
Your thoughts are welcome. Be well friends.