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  by Laleema Kuthiala
 February 19, 2015
 from 
			Collective-Evolution Website
 
			
			Spanish version 
			  
			  
			  
			  
			
			 
			  
			
 "The fear of death 
			follows from the fear of life.
 
			A man who lives fully is 
			prepared to die at any time."  
			Mark Twain
 
			Heroes seldom die; they rise above adversity and conquer death 
			itself to inspire, thrill and invigorate us.
 
			  
			On screen and off it, through trial and triumph, 
			heroes portray the loftiest of human ambitions - immortality. Heroes 
			live forever, and ironically we have death to thank for that! For as 
			a reference point, it is death that validates our hero's endeavors, 
			death that lends meaning to his/her life, and death that 
			crystallizes a hero in human memory.  
			  
			Our own lives are not all that different.
 Personally and interpersonally, this final milestone plays a major 
			part in shaping our attitudes and response to the world around us - 
			here and now. Whether you realize it or not, the act of dying and 
			how we move through it, mirrors the deepest essence of our social 
			and cultural contexts.
 
			  
			The final rites and our 'final judgment' echo the 
			ideals we yearn to uphold through our time here on Earth.  
			  
			And thus our death is about a lot more than release 
			and goodbyes; through concept and ritual it embodies an index to 
			measure our entire life against. 
			  
			  
			  
			
			What History & Tradition 
			Say
 
 The 
			
			Maasai tribes of southern Kenya and northern Tanzania for 
			instance, believe that we are all temporal beings, and that a 
			warrior lives on through the family he leaves behind.
 
			  
			Social constructs are therefore visibly elaborate 
			while death is unassuming and modest.  
			  
			The Maasai body is ordinarily discarded for predators 
			to consume with no elaborate attempts to purify or preserve it, 
			echoing the wisdom of the surrounding wild and landscape.
 Yet further north stand the grandest testaments to belief in the 
			afterlife; for the ancient Egyptians both - life and death - were 
			oriented towards a singular moment - judgment in 
			
			the Halls of Maat. 
			Unlike the Maasai who find immortality here on Earth, the ancient 
			Egyptians found their moment of heroic triumph on the other side of 
			life.
 
			  
			On the Egyptian landscape thus, tombs stand much 
			higher than any home or hearth.
 Further still, in other traditions death is viewed not just as a 
			singular event at the tail end of our lives, but as an integral 
			aspect of the journey itself. Two sides to the same coin, life and 
			death are celebrated as the polarities that our experiences play out 
			between. The ancient Greeks honored this continuous cycle of life 
			and death in the myth of Persephone, bowing to the seasons as a 
			movement between the two.
 
			  
			Pagan traditions - old and new - see this eternal 
			balance in every moment - drawn out between masculine and feminine 
			aspects.  
			  
			To the Pagan mind both - life and death - are always 
			in co-existence, and therefore rebirth is the natural order of 
			things; immortality here is not a lofty ambition, but an inherent 
			character of the organic.
 Scour through pretty much any context and way of life, and its 
			relationship with death and immortality offers keen insight into its 
			way of being. Whether it presents the kernel of immortality within 
			life or beyond it, every system seems to offer a chance at 
			continuity long after we have breathed our last.
 
			  
			Is our continuity then, a simple human fantasy or 
			indeed a universal truth that reverberates across space and time? 
			  
			  
			  
			
			The Power In First-Hand 
			Experience
 
 As a rule of thumb, I feel we all learn best from first-hand 
			experience.
 
			  
			Words and visions inspire, but it is active 
			engagement that gives shape to our ideas, beliefs and Truth. When it 
			comes to questions of life, death and the possibilities beyond it, 
			the answers once again lie in our every day - in the ordinary and 
			the extraordinary it presents.
 My every day brought me a steady stream of apparitions, psychic 
			visions and encounters with the unseen - voluntary and involuntary.
 
			  
			As a professional intuitive and medium, I could 
			relate one account after another, and argue the evidence it 
			presents. But moving through my every day, I have also come to 
			realize that whether or not one believes or experiences the 
			afterlife, the wisdom on offer is eternally and universally 
			relevant.  
			  
			Why? Because death isn't just some distant 
			possibility; it is an equal reality in every breath and every 
			moment, in everyday life.
 No, the exceptionally chatty spirit of my deceased granny did not 
			come and whisper secrets into my ear, nor did I discover them 
			through a fateful flash of Zeus' thunderbolt.
 
			  
			These insights are held in even the most mundane that 
			plays out right before us; touching the unseen just offered me an 
			opportunity to pause, observe and reflect.  
			  
			Here is a little of what I discovered: 
			  
				
					
					
					Death requisites humility   
					We fear death because we cannot work out how 
					to control it; our mind and ego are at a loss when trying to 
					factor death into our grand ambitions and deftly laid out 
					plans.    
					But this is precisely why we must revere it, 
					weaving an awareness of it into every action and intention. 
					You see, it is the grand mysteries that put our infinite 
					dreams into context, and as a definite unpredictable, death 
					is the grandest of them all!    
					Understanding our quest for continuity and 
					how it can be achieved this side of death or the other, 
					allows us to invest our time more wisely.
 
					
					Every moment we are reborn   
					Every moment holds within it the dual 
					possibilities of both life and death; it is our choice which 
					we focus on and experience.    
					Just like a seed that must die to birth a 
					plant, we too are constantly evolving - part of us dies as 
					another aspect takes birth. You could experience this at a 
					metaphoric level as you reinvent yourself, or physically 
					witness it as your body births new cells and discards the 
					old.    
					Do not turn away from dying; no experience is 
					complete or decision is truly informed without it.
 
					
					Death is a frank advisor   
					The trickiest part of integrating a 
					relationship with death and immortality, into our way of 
					being, is the reality check it brings.    
					Facing up to the possibility of an ending - 
					to our dearest endeavors or to our self - calls for courage 
					and bare honesty. Looking into the face of death we glimpse 
					not just the risk and pain at stake, but our deepest fears 
					and doubts.    
					But this is the moment of the hero, for on 
					the other side of it lies the triumph and immortality we so 
					deeply yearn for.   
					If you really want some frank insight, 
					consider all you seek dying and you shall not only learn 
					much from it, but also find the motivation to choose and 
					act.
 
					
					To truly live you must first truly die   
					Do not fight death ungraciously - not all is 
					lost in endings.    
					Nature and energy moves in cycles, and what 
					was once lost is sure to be discovered again with new vigor 
					and joy. We tend to spend so much of our time holding on to 
					what is, resisting the Reaper's onslaught, that we slow down 
					the rhythms and pace of our own lives.    
					There is glory in standing up to death, yes; 
					but if you move through it, do so in grace, knowing that 
					continuity is at the core of creation. 
			Look closely and you will uncover the wisdom of 
			death in all life, and the promise of life in all deaths. 
				
				"Only the idea of death makes a man sufficiently 
				detached so he is capable of abandoning himself to anything. 
				Only the idea of death makes a man sufficiently detached so he 
				can't deny himself anything.   
				A man of that sort, however, does not crave, for 
				he has acquired a silent lust for life and for all things of 
				life." 
				Don Juan Matus,
				
				A Separate Reality 
			  
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