Tuesday, March 06, 2012

What We Are Afraid Of

by RmOlano


It 's somewhat amazing how one’s thought could wander after being left alone in a small room after a corpsman poke your arm with needle and attached probes all over your chest. Lying down on a sterile white bed sheet, body half propped up, while looking down to your faded blue jeans and desert boots, the quietness and steady humming of air conditioner induce a trance like effect to one’s situational awareness. What is going on and what is going to happen next when that door opens up. Another tests, another poking or some sort of medically correctness judgment from a white robed authority of human life expectancy? You fight the urge to pull the needle and tubes sticking in your veins and find out if you are somehow forgotten within the chaos of a place called emergency care unit.

It's also somewhat amusing to drive, walk yourself into urgent care unit and "surrender" your physical being to distant people who perform their job mechanically without emotions. Watching the activities of these professionals make one appreciate that not all humans are meant to be like them. Tending broken bones, attending screaming children, calming down impatient old man is a form of art not science. Each case is different as each patient is an individual being. To approach them as a mere number meant a loss of identity and its humanity not only from care giver side but from both from both end. Although there is a truism of a notion that not everyone can be doctors or nurses, there is an equal truth that everyone can be human with intrinsic compassion.

Looking back to times when one have to convince one soul that staying longer on this earth meant and worth something. An inner voice within the deep bowels of one heart is a song about ignoring a fact that going through medical procedure only delay what the future awaits all mortal beings. There is no escape to where we all bound to go.. no matter how many laurels of victory be placed on one’s head nor diadems be placed on one’s chest by Eastern potentate, our sand will keep on pouring until nothing is left behind. Living one’s life with morals and ethics to the fullest is a simple chalice on a supper table and a grail to be discovered for it is the swan dance of a classic dancer, an opus of a writer or dream of a dreamer because unlike time… Life is finite.

Looking to this white clad bespectacled man, throwing medical terms with such precision and ease as if normal man can understand what those meant, the apparition disappeared before one can even comprehend what went on. So again you are left alone and wait and begin again to ponder, to continue where you left off… it seems like a rat race after you see your kids are on their way living or running their own race. So after doing our duty to ensure the continuance of human race by reproducing off springs, what lies ahead for us? it appears like we are swimming the great salmon route, struggling to survive the trek downstream toward great ocean only to fight again to return to the same river to spawn and became nutrient of the great Alaskan wilderness. Yes, there is a delta between fish and man, the difference between salmon and us is our belief that there is a soul within us, a hope that there is something waiting for us Afterlife. An ideal inculcated to our consciousness by our parents that there is something better beyond this experience we call life. So if that is the case, if that notion is true and if there is a place we can all see each other again in an ideal place where unhappiness does not exists, why we are afraid of leaving this mortal world, why don't we accept that passing away is a part of life? why don't we welcome death as a messenger that would translate us from this earthly home to that heavenly domain where the Great Architect of the Universe forever presides? Why or what we are afraid of ? For travelers who seek---this is where we are going to find the final answer for the search of that which was lost. SMIB.


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