We perceive reality with a variety of senses both loud and nuanced. The intangible feelings of subtle presence are just as real as watching a fireworks display, just not as conspicuous... There is a lot to be said on this topic... Even more yet to be discovered
I wonder, maybe more, maybe less. I know I feel less certain of spiritual things than I did before my first big loss.
Either way, they are always moving emotionally in some way, which in my experience heightens our perception of the subtleties of the human condition.
On the eve of my mother’s funeral a friend reminded me to turn around and notice who was there in the gathering of mourners. When one sits in the front row at a funeral, it’s weighted with deep loss. But to see others paying respect with their presence is something that stays with us. Those witnesses of life and loss and the inherent pain in both conditions. I’m more certain of this now than I am about pearly gates.
Yes a very common feeling. It would appear that a person is never fully dead until the very last person who knew them is also dead.
I bought you a coffee!! I’m having a coffee too😎
Would you like me to add you to my Executive Producers credits?
Absolutely!
We perceive reality with a variety of senses both loud and nuanced. The intangible feelings of subtle presence are just as real as watching a fireworks display, just not as conspicuous... There is a lot to be said on this topic... Even more yet to be discovered
You’ve obviously been to a few as I have now. Know a bit too much about death and dying, putting me in the “call a friend group’ for many.
I like your take Ian, your tender poem, I’ll buy you a coffee for this one, when I get up in the morning.
Not been to too many. Wonder if I’ll find it less metaphysical the more I attend.
I wonder, maybe more, maybe less. I know I feel less certain of spiritual things than I did before my first big loss.
Either way, they are always moving emotionally in some way, which in my experience heightens our perception of the subtleties of the human condition.
On the eve of my mother’s funeral a friend reminded me to turn around and notice who was there in the gathering of mourners. When one sits in the front row at a funeral, it’s weighted with deep loss. But to see others paying respect with their presence is something that stays with us. Those witnesses of life and loss and the inherent pain in both conditions. I’m more certain of this now than I am about pearly gates.
Beautiful poem and yes, I feel that presence too, not even at funerals, but around me…always.😘