Thursday, March 5, 2009


My uncle Terry died on March 1.
Today was his funeral (March 5).
6 years ago, on March 5 (2003), my grandfather (who had his grandchildren call him "Tay" ~ short for Taylor) died.
Tay's funeral was on my 30th birthday on March 8th, 2003.

So I have been contemplating death lately.
I am reminded of the importance of detachment ~ absolving desire and accepting what is.
And about impermenence ~ if we recognize the fleeting quality of everything in life and detach from it from the get go, then we might be able to spearhead our suffering.

And all this reaffirms my belief in reincarnation.

It was Nicole (an Australian woman I met in India) who introduced me to this concept.

Although the healthy skeptic who lives in my rational left brain has had many debates with me about the ridiculousness of the idea of coming back after death, as the days and years go by, it's arguments are getting weaker and weaker.

If you've never read anything by Dr. Brian Weiss, I encourage you to do so.

His experiences have re-framed my "fear of death" and cushioned it into this amazingly incredible opportunity.
This psychiatrist-turned-past-life-regression-therapist presents unmistakable evidence of the interconnectedness through lifetimes of solid connections. He presents the whole idea in a loving and healing way.

Last night, after having been at uncle Terry's viewing, I randomly pulled a book off the shelf. It was one that I brought back from India after my first visit, not knowing that it would serve the purpose it did last night.

It's called "I am that" and is a discourse with Sri Nisargadatta Maharaj.

I was given this message on the front cover:

"The real does not die, the unreal never lived.
Imagine a big building collapsing, some rooms are in ruins,
some intact.
But can you speak of the space as ruined? Or intact?
It is only the structure that suffered and the people who
happened to live in it. Nothing happened to the space itself.

Similarly, nothing happens to life when forms break down and
names are wiped out. The goldsmith melts down old jewellery
to make new. Once you know that death happens to the body and not
to you, you just watch your body falling off, like a discarded

The real you is timeless and beyond birth and death.
The body will survive as long as it is needed. It is not
important that it should live long."

Ok, the really freaky thing is that I have really tried, but have not really understood before now much of what this book was saying. Funny that I should reach for this book, which was oddly on the shelf right beside by bed, just at the right time. Not really funny, but inevitable, i guess.


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