“We’re all just walking each other home.” ~ Ram Dass
I like to write about whatever I’ve come upon, and this week I’ve come upon one of life’s great paradoxes, mysteries, and fears. This week a beloved friend and neighbour was laid to rest.
Suddenly, he is not here.
It’s hard to face loss when all we want are explanations. The only explanation I can think of is that it happened because it can, and it falls desperately short of what I need. I’ve heard it said that all truth is paradox, so I must accept it. Somehow we all have to accept this truth when we lose someone dear, and do our best to live through our missing when it happens. And it’s hard.
I’m not fond of those clichés you often hear at times like these. You know—Life is short, Live life to the fullest—those. But our losses do have a way of strengthening our connection to life. Once again, the heaviness hits us. We’re left with the question...what makes life worth living?
It’s easy to see how, despite our best intentions, we lose focus on what matters most. We can end up missing the mark. And while we’re all busy building our lives in pursuit of our success and security, we start to believe that we’re living lives of great importance. Others start believing it, too.
But sometimes our pursuits can easily slip into what disguises itself as a life well-lived. Reflecting on it now, I see how often I’ve chased things in the past that ended up being nothing of deep significance.
Maybe you’ve never chased the things that I have. Maybe instead you’ve lived your life numbing-out on booze, food, TikTok, whatever. Or maybe you prefer to live life in the narrow lane—with only those people and things that make you feel comfortable, safe and successful while the days...and the weeks...and the years...slip by.
None of us escapes the seduction of things dressed up as meaningful.
Death reminds us that life is one of those limited-time offers—for the striver, the lackadaisical, the pro athlete, Mick Jagger, everyone. We all live in a kind of precarity and I don’t like it any more than you do. It’s scary. But it’s also incentive. It helps us figure out what truly makes our lives meaningful and rich. Since none of us can outrun the inevitable, those trivialities, addictions and distractions can lead to grief of a different kind— a wasted life.
I admit that sometimes I think of my life as small, insignificant, just a blip in time, believing at the end of the day maybe none of what I’m doing here matters. But each time I hear the stories of how the lives of those we’ve lost have touched others, I realize how wrong I am.
All of our lives are valuable and the most meaningful ones are deeply relational and full of goodness, generosity, and love. Family, friends, and relationships are the things that make life worth living. Because no matter what the future holds, we only have each other.
It’s more than enough. And will be forevermore.
