Tuesday, 20 January 2009

Will I Sleep When I am Dead?

All the fun over the humans remains at Avebury and the circus-like performance of ‘druids’ trying to reclaim them for The Earth Goddess©, has got me thinking about death. I suppose I have given the matter thought before but never really pulled the thoughts together in a cohesive mass and pondered it as a whole. So here goes;

I do believe we have a non-corporeal element to our bodies, whether this is the soul or spirit or simply an energy field of some sort. Do I believe it is capable of body-independent existence? I don’t know. Presumably if the answer is yes then it is the part of us that exists post-mortem and suffers one of a number of fates, namely; reincarnation, an afterlife or simply fading away and becoming part of a bigger whole again much in the way my corporeal body returns to the earth and the atoms that make up me re-enter the food chain again. I would certainly like to think that there is some sort of post-mortem conscious existence, an afterlife of sorts but to be truthful I don’t mind if not, I can’t say I am overly fussed about it and so will wait and see. If there is then whoopee, and if not then I will be dead and won’t be all that concerned.

So lets assume there is some sort of conscious afterlife or post-mortem existence. It could either be here on earth as some wandering ghoul or on another plane of existence (cf. Otherworld, Summerlands etc). in either case, am I attached to me remains?

I doubt it. If I were then I will be forever doomed to hang about in a graveyard as the very atoms of my body liquefy away to be eaten by fungus and annelid, my very molecules never to really stray from those few square yards of earth except perhaps with a passing robin or crow in a worm filled crop. If that were to happen – do I go with the worm and bird or stay with the coffin? Will I have a choice? Is this what happens to us if we are attached to our bones? To suffer the torment of seeing our husk torn to pieces and sent across the landscape, never sure which bit to follow, or even unable to follow at all. If we cannot follow then what happens when the last atom is gone to some mushroom picker? If we are tied to our very being like a bad dog to his kennel then death must surely be an unbearable torture of loneliness and entrapment. Maybe this is what ghosts are, souls without a body and unsure where to be, wandering and wailing as they hunt down a single atom to give them a new place of being.

Perhaps the kind thing is to let us roam free of our body now that it is food for the creepy crawlies, to leave behind that mortal coil of Shakespeare and let us skip off into the sunset.

Is anything left behind I wonder? A fingerprint of a soul? An echo of a fingerprint of a soul long gone?

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