The reluctant poster

It has been some years since I've written on this blog. The last post was rather emotional and not the good kind either. It is sad to think that the only reason I've wanted to come back and write was because I have yet another sobering thought. And again, not exactly a positive kind either, but I'd like to think it is analytical.

Death.

I have always wondered what I personally thought of it. I have never really had much of an opinion in such matter. I consider it neither sad nor happy. Neither option really describes it for me. I gave it some thought and came to the conclusion that I felt indifferent towards it. It is like a season that transition into another, eventually passing like a habitual routine. A constant that we have no control but accepting.

In Western culture, there is a norm to think that we have to continue living as if the world depended on it. This may be true. But to what extent then this becomes a necessity? Are we to continually deny that mortality exists? Even when our time is nigh?

Meanwhile, other cultures rejoice and celebrate days of the death and embrace is as part of the living. I believe it is partly due to letting the future generation know that it is part of this world and we should not deny it its existence. It will happen and it will be inevitable.

But looking at things from my own living situation (and as selfish as this may sound), I can conclude that my existence is important to others, but maybe it is not so much to myself. It is different to feeling suicidal or wanting to end one's life. Just an understanding that when my time comes due to whatever (un)fortunate circumstances then what I can say is that I have none to lose. I have no psychological nor emotional attachment to this world. And when I leave my physical being will be nothing but a pile of ash that is scattered on earth. I think the scariest notion out of all of this is the thought that I feel nothing towards my own mortality.

When such a thought occurs then doesn't that mean I would need to readjust my own life? How do I give it meaning? I know for sure the constant humdrum of everyday life and the routines and the habits are nothing but fillers to the gaps of my existence. I think that is my next part of my own journey. To find what I find meaningful in my own life and to work hard to fulfil my own sense of belonging.

I'm not entirely sure whether I have stepped away from my emotional immaturity but I guess we will always learn and to constantly learn is not necessarily a bad thing.