Skip to main content

Meditation on Death

 


"Lebennach dem Tode - Wer Gründe hat, an sein 'Leben nach dem Tode' zu glauben, 
muß seinen 'Tod' während seines Lebens ertragen lernen" ***
(Friedrich Nietzsche Fragmente 1[8])



When we speak of death, we have in mind two kinds of death: death in life and death after life. While we are alive, we avoid speaking or thinking about death, as though it were not part of life; we live as if we were immortal.

Death after life—as far as we can conceive of it while still alive—can only be imagined, and we begin to imagine it when we start to feel old, when death draws near. Then reality begins to seem unreal, and everything we have experienced up to that point loses its tangibility, its coherence, and its shape. We begin to realise that the life in which we believed no longer exists—indeed, that it never truly existed—and that the only genuine reality is death: the everlasting end of all illusions, all hopes, and everything, great or small, that we have managed to achieve within the span allotted to us.

In this way, we learn to die, just as we once learned to live.

----------
***
Life After Death. — Whoever has grounds to believe in his own "life after death" must learn to endure his own "death" during his lifetime.

Telegram: De Unamuno
Whatsapp: De Unamuno

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Similarities between Lithuanian, Sanskrit and Ancient Greek: the sigmatic future

by Fabrizio Ulivieri Lithuanian is the most archaic among all the Indo-European languages spoken today, and as a result it is very useful, indeed, indispensable in the study of Indo-European linguistics. The most important fact is that Lithuanian is not only very archaic, but still very much alive, i. e., it is spoken by about three and a half million people. It has a rich tradition in folklore, in literature, and it is used very successfully in all walks of modern life, including the most advanced scientific research. Forced by our interest for this piece of living archaism, we go deeper in our linguistic survey. One of the most noticeable similarities is the future (- sigmatic future -). Lithuanian has preserved a future tense from prehistoric times: it has one single form, e.g. kalbė-siu 'I will speak', etc. kalbė-si kalbė-s kalbė-sime kalbė-site kalbė-s This form kalbėsiu is made from the stem kalbė-(ti) 'to speak', plus the ancient stem-end...

Yellow moons

Yellow moons at nighttime, Beyond the windows loom Stretch along and rise to bloom Flooding streets and singing rhyme. Downtown trains are full tonight. White pale girls try hard  Their world shy discard  Cross pale and dull the light. Like crows wave hands  Uneasy scatter and chat around Watch the light now profound. But proudly keep their stands. Nothing captures their heart. Like thorns they are - without a rose. Oh, if I were the one they choose I would span silent the dark. I know that window, I know it's late I know the stairs and the doorway I stand by the light at the four-way I walk down past the gate and wait. Will I see her eyes tonight? From a downtown train A girl among many faces, insane Will I catch her slight dim sight? Oh my dreams, if she falls away, Am I going alone nowhere? Following the moon's glare I lonely wait - watch the train stay. -------------- PS. " Downtown Train" is one of my favourite songs. Tom Waits’ voice, or Rod Stewart’s voice sing...

Poetry dwells near the divine light's breath

  The comparison between poetry and divine light that we have proposed HERE finds its perfect explanation in Saint Paul, Epistle to the Romans 1:19: τ ὸ γνωστὸν τοῦ θεοῦ φανερόν ἐστιν ἐν αὐτοῖς, ὁ θεὸς γὰρ αὐτοῖς ἐφανέρωσεν — “that which may be known of God has been made manifest in them (in men), for God has manifested it unto them”. Poetry unveils within the human being the need to be human, that is, the need for Beauty, the need to feel Beauty within oneself and alongside oneself; and this feeling is sustained by divine light. Since we are influenced by the Augustinian idea of saeculum , we hold that poetry belongs to the saeculum and therefore comes to a halt upon the threshold of divine light [I] without crossing it, though perceiving the light that lies beyond that threshold. We are led to that threshold by the human feeling of Beauty that dwells within us and guides us to that point: to that door which cannot be crossed in our human condition. And yet, the mere act of stan...