Though you've been here on Earth for much of my life (I suspect), you didn't exist until a few months ago. And now, although I've never actually seen your face or spoken to you in person, you are a steady flame, flickering well beyond the curvature of this planet we both travel and seek to understand, a source of light and warmth that enlarges the world a bit and makes it seem noticeably friendlier. How such a thing can be is beyond me. That it is, delights me. Your story, its calm, wise telling is a gift, a portal through thousands of miles of stone and darkness that allows eyes on this side of our shared planet to see, feel, understand... moments we were never present to, fleeting architects of the person you became. The glow of your very intentional light helps delineate the curved horizon to my east. I'm less apprehensive about the dark. Thank you.
Omg dearst Chloe...thanks so much for this beautiful post...I love that you pointed the obvious without judgment! I need to learn that. Holding space for everyone who suffers one way or another starting with ourselves. And a prayer for you and your mom! From earth we come to earth we shall return.
Chloe, I was just about to shut down for the night and head to bed and then saw this pop up, so this comment is like a swift, gliding through the air of time and winging its way here before I continue to the night's realm.
I'm so sorry for your loss. I'm not sure if you've mentioned those details before about your mother. You were so young. I'm so sorry.
I think it's a lovely notion that there is a descendent line of magpies that keep vigil over churchyards and graveyards, guarding the dead.
And wow, that man bent on eternity -- that's really not some existence I want either.
What a beautiful post, Chloe. Damn, I shall be thinking about that lonely man for a while. That seems like torture to me, depriving yourself of every joy and serendipity just to live longer. To live for what, then, if all you do is subject yourself to mechanical, lifeless procedures whose only aim is to keep you alive long enough to make it to the next procedure?
Too, I’m sorry for your loss. I’m just beginning to lose family myself, though thankfully I’m old enough to understand things in perspective; but I have to say death is taking up more and more space in my head.
I found your reflections on your early memories very evocative. Childhood memories seem to have an added layer of intensity to them, I guess it has something to do with them being connected to a time when we were so small and everything was so scary and new.
As for the immortalist, I think you summed it up perfectly - “What a strange way to spend eternity”.
I feel sorry for the immortalist, too. I sense so much fear beneath his efforts. As if not dying is the same as being alive. Also, isn't knowing life ends what makes it so precious?
Your memories here are so tender and beautiful. Thank you for sharing, Chloe ❤️
Oh, might I suggest checking out the Netflix show, Live to 100: Secrets of the Blue Zones. While we learn that the simple longevity of Okanawa's centenarians is difficult to replicate now, it shows how we could, if we wanted to. The oldsters are incredible, strong and healthy and very social. As others have said, what is the point of living forever if you are just subsisting and not sharing the wonder of life?
I saw bullfinches outside the window of my dad's hospice room, and I remember thinking.....wow I've never actually seen them in the wild, only briefly at work and even then it's brief as they don't tend to do well at all once in captivity. I have a picture on my wall (you'll have seen it) of bullfinches and it's one of my mum's favourites.....so looking back (I've only just pieced it together writing this) it seems very fitting. What with that and the robin singing his song at 3:25am as we left the hospice after dad had passed.....there's my own little death and birds right there ❤️
Thank you. The story of the wealthy man begets many thoughts of others who, while not quite as extreme, will spend much of their remaining time being just as selfish. Sad.
Reading about your mother's crystals underneath her pillows reminded me of my own boys meditating with me. I have about 30 or so and they each got to choose their favorite ones and I would tell them the power of the stones, often times just creating stories if what they needed to hear in that moment. They were so young. But I think, that they thought, just like I did, that the power lies in the ritual. And that when you've done that ritual and woken up to see another day, your belief in that ritual only grows. My boys knew why I was meditating with my crystals, and I cherish the memory of their belief that their active belief and participation in this ritual was their part in doing something to help me. The illusion of control.
And the immortalist with his rituals does seem peculiar, but there is something so comforting about ritual and the illusion of control especially when nothing else matters. Without knowing the full story, I suspect he is just bored and curious to see if it will actually work. He has probably done everything he has wanted to do and being in the tech world, I find his living is no different from people who spend all their time on tech and not truly living either. This just presents itself differently. I wish him luck, and peace and comfort for whatever it is he is trying to hold on to.
How unfortunate it is to lose a mother at such a tender age, for you to both miss out on precious milestones. I'm sorry for your loss. It must feel like an emptiness that will never fill.
What a great take on the dude wanting to live forever but choosing a lifestyle that doesn't sound like much of a life anyway. I am laughing and maybe even feeling a little more OK about the whole death thing.
Thank you for your words, Chloe. Beautiful, brave, vulnerable, ordinary, extraordinary. They help me to explore the darkness I avoid. So I'm grateful for this.
That last sentence, though - because you're right, one imagines that the efforts to stay alive become more involved, not less, as you keep going on and on and on... Who was just saying - think of death five times a day, and you'll be happier... ::)) Doesn't seem to be working for the immortalist, though it does say "think of" not "be terrified by..."
Oh Chloe, what an extraordinary moment for your 3 year old self to capture and hold. I am imagining her anguish in that moment, looking down at your exquisite tiny self, trying to understand that she will be leaving you. One can wonder how being with her in hospice then must have configured your future. It feels like this entire memory is held in a glimmering crystal ball.
I have wanted to ask you what has happened to the roses at your Mother’s grave?
Curiously, my first memories are also at 3. I have earlier sensibilities, no images, like remembering the mist of feelings.
Though you've been here on Earth for much of my life (I suspect), you didn't exist until a few months ago. And now, although I've never actually seen your face or spoken to you in person, you are a steady flame, flickering well beyond the curvature of this planet we both travel and seek to understand, a source of light and warmth that enlarges the world a bit and makes it seem noticeably friendlier. How such a thing can be is beyond me. That it is, delights me. Your story, its calm, wise telling is a gift, a portal through thousands of miles of stone and darkness that allows eyes on this side of our shared planet to see, feel, understand... moments we were never present to, fleeting architects of the person you became. The glow of your very intentional light helps delineate the curved horizon to my east. I'm less apprehensive about the dark. Thank you.
"What a strange way to spend eternity"
Omg dearst Chloe...thanks so much for this beautiful post...I love that you pointed the obvious without judgment! I need to learn that. Holding space for everyone who suffers one way or another starting with ourselves. And a prayer for you and your mom! From earth we come to earth we shall return.
Chloe, I was just about to shut down for the night and head to bed and then saw this pop up, so this comment is like a swift, gliding through the air of time and winging its way here before I continue to the night's realm.
I'm so sorry for your loss. I'm not sure if you've mentioned those details before about your mother. You were so young. I'm so sorry.
I think it's a lovely notion that there is a descendent line of magpies that keep vigil over churchyards and graveyards, guarding the dead.
And wow, that man bent on eternity -- that's really not some existence I want either.
What a beautiful post, Chloe. Damn, I shall be thinking about that lonely man for a while. That seems like torture to me, depriving yourself of every joy and serendipity just to live longer. To live for what, then, if all you do is subject yourself to mechanical, lifeless procedures whose only aim is to keep you alive long enough to make it to the next procedure?
Too, I’m sorry for your loss. I’m just beginning to lose family myself, though thankfully I’m old enough to understand things in perspective; but I have to say death is taking up more and more space in my head.
Beautiful piece Chloe.
I found your reflections on your early memories very evocative. Childhood memories seem to have an added layer of intensity to them, I guess it has something to do with them being connected to a time when we were so small and everything was so scary and new.
As for the immortalist, I think you summed it up perfectly - “What a strange way to spend eternity”.
Thanks Chloe.
I'm sorry for your loss.
I'm sorry too for the immortal one. Life and death are inseparable. It seems that in denying himself death, he has denied himself life.
I feel sorry for the immortalist, too. I sense so much fear beneath his efforts. As if not dying is the same as being alive. Also, isn't knowing life ends what makes it so precious?
Your memories here are so tender and beautiful. Thank you for sharing, Chloe ❤️
Oh, might I suggest checking out the Netflix show, Live to 100: Secrets of the Blue Zones. While we learn that the simple longevity of Okanawa's centenarians is difficult to replicate now, it shows how we could, if we wanted to. The oldsters are incredible, strong and healthy and very social. As others have said, what is the point of living forever if you are just subsisting and not sharing the wonder of life?
I saw bullfinches outside the window of my dad's hospice room, and I remember thinking.....wow I've never actually seen them in the wild, only briefly at work and even then it's brief as they don't tend to do well at all once in captivity. I have a picture on my wall (you'll have seen it) of bullfinches and it's one of my mum's favourites.....so looking back (I've only just pieced it together writing this) it seems very fitting. What with that and the robin singing his song at 3:25am as we left the hospice after dad had passed.....there's my own little death and birds right there ❤️
Thank you. The story of the wealthy man begets many thoughts of others who, while not quite as extreme, will spend much of their remaining time being just as selfish. Sad.
Reading about your mother's crystals underneath her pillows reminded me of my own boys meditating with me. I have about 30 or so and they each got to choose their favorite ones and I would tell them the power of the stones, often times just creating stories if what they needed to hear in that moment. They were so young. But I think, that they thought, just like I did, that the power lies in the ritual. And that when you've done that ritual and woken up to see another day, your belief in that ritual only grows. My boys knew why I was meditating with my crystals, and I cherish the memory of their belief that their active belief and participation in this ritual was their part in doing something to help me. The illusion of control.
And the immortalist with his rituals does seem peculiar, but there is something so comforting about ritual and the illusion of control especially when nothing else matters. Without knowing the full story, I suspect he is just bored and curious to see if it will actually work. He has probably done everything he has wanted to do and being in the tech world, I find his living is no different from people who spend all their time on tech and not truly living either. This just presents itself differently. I wish him luck, and peace and comfort for whatever it is he is trying to hold on to.
How unfortunate it is to lose a mother at such a tender age, for you to both miss out on precious milestones. I'm sorry for your loss. It must feel like an emptiness that will never fill.
What a great take on the dude wanting to live forever but choosing a lifestyle that doesn't sound like much of a life anyway. I am laughing and maybe even feeling a little more OK about the whole death thing.
Thank you for your words, Chloe. Beautiful, brave, vulnerable, ordinary, extraordinary. They help me to explore the darkness I avoid. So I'm grateful for this.
What a gorgeous audio reading, as well.
That last sentence, though - because you're right, one imagines that the efforts to stay alive become more involved, not less, as you keep going on and on and on... Who was just saying - think of death five times a day, and you'll be happier... ::)) Doesn't seem to be working for the immortalist, though it does say "think of" not "be terrified by..."
Oh Chloe, what an extraordinary moment for your 3 year old self to capture and hold. I am imagining her anguish in that moment, looking down at your exquisite tiny self, trying to understand that she will be leaving you. One can wonder how being with her in hospice then must have configured your future. It feels like this entire memory is held in a glimmering crystal ball.
I have wanted to ask you what has happened to the roses at your Mother’s grave?
Curiously, my first memories are also at 3. I have earlier sensibilities, no images, like remembering the mist of feelings.
Sending you love.
Rosi