She shouldn’t die.
- Yes (Feels true).
- No (Cannot know that is absolutely true, nor what is best for her path, my path, or anyone’s path.)
- How do I react when I believe that thought?
Images of all the times we have spent together, how rewarding it has been for me. Sadness of losing it. Grief of losing it, even while she is still alive. Images of me without her in my life, and how empty it will be. Images of everything I will miss. Fear. Frustration of how unpredictable life is, that I cannot know when anyone will die – nor do anything to prevent it. Hopelessness. Feel trapped. Feel that life is unfair. I feel separate from her, from myself, from anyone else – because they will all die from me, and from life.
How do I treat her?
I either feel needy and want her attention, or sad and unable to connect very well.
How do I treat myself?
I play images of good times together, and of my own grief and loneliness after she is gone, in my mind. I torture myself by playing them over and over.
What is the payoff?
I get to feel that I appreciate what she has brought into my life, knowing it is transient. I get to see myself as a “good” person wanting someone else to stay around longer. I get to experience sadness and the depth and grounding in that.
And the cost?
Sense of separation – from her, myself, others, life. Sense of loneliness – even while she (and others) are still around. Sense of frustration and hopelessness. Sense of being a victim – of this life and universe where everything is temporary.
- Who would I be without that thought?
Free to enjoy our time together and apart, free from my stories around it. Free to see what is conventionally called her “death” as just being apart, as I am daily even now.
>> Free to be as I am right now, apart from her, even after what they call death. Free from adding any stories to it.
Free to play the stories of our times together in my mind, and enjoy it, appreciate it, experience the love through that as I do now. Free to see that she will continue to live in me, as she already does when we are apart.
- (a) She should die.
Yes, we all do. Everything born dies. Everything is transient. There is no renewal without death – stars die and create heavier elements allowing planets and life, organisms die and give space and matter to new organisms, cultures die and give space and nutrients to new cultures, species die and allow space for new species, ideas die allowing space for new ideas, insights die allowing space for new insights, and so on.
She wouldn’t have been around in the first place if this was not inherent to the world of phenomena. She is born from death, and returns to death – as everything and everyone else.
I also see how the world of phenomena, unfolding within the eternal Present, is always fresh, always new, always different. The whole world dies as what it was and is reborn as something else, continually.
Also, when she dies it is as it should be. There are infinite causes to it. It is another expression of the whole.
I also see that she should die in this memory, because she (most likely) will at some point. She will die in this (my) memory, and be gone from my world. Possibly when this body dies, possibly before, possibly later, possibly never – I don’t know.
(b) My thinking should die.
Yes, my thinking that she shouldn’t die is what should die. It is in conflict with what is, and only creates misery for me. It is an unexamined belief only.
(c) My thinking shouldn’t die.
Yes, true as well. My thinking about her shouldn’t die. If I want her to not die, she should stay alive right here, in my mind. That is about all I have control over, if that.
(d) I shouldn’t die.
Well, don’t know. What I find here is the timeless Present within which the world of phenomena unfolds, and since it is (or seems) unborn it (seems that it) won’t die. Really, I don’t know.
(e) I should die.
Yes, if I see “I” as this body/mind, it obviously should die, along with everything else in the world of phenomena. It all comes and goes. It is all transient. It is flow. Everything and everybody are guests, passerbys.
I will miss her and what she brings into my life.
- (a) I won’t miss her and what she brings into my life.
>> That is as true. She will be with me right here, in my own mind, so I won’t miss her. And if she is not present even here, then I won’t know that she isn’t so I won’t miss her then either.
(b) I will miss myself and what I bring into my life.
>> Yes, that is also true. If I believe that I will miss her, there is a sense of separation even from myself, so I will miss myself and what I bring into my life. In believing the thought, there is separation, and a sense of loneliness. I am in her business, and nobody is here to take care of me.
(c) I will miss her and what I bring into my life.
>> Yes, also true. I will miss her, and what I bring into my life through (my story of) her. She serves as a catalyst for things in me, as a mirror for myself. I get to know myself in a different way through her.
I won’t have her as a mirror (for myself).
- (a) I will have her as a mirror.
Yes, my stories about her will still serve as a mirror for myself. It may take a different flavor, but still be a mirror. And the role she served as my mirror will be taken up by others. There is a whole universe whose job it is to serve as a mirror for me, so if one part of it goes away there is plenty left to take up the slack.
(b) I will have others as a mirror.
>> Yes, that is true. It sets it in perspective. She may be gone in a certain way, but there is still the whole rest of the universe there – faithfully doing its job as a mirror for me. Mirroring me back to myself in innumerable ways. There is an infinite richness out there, even without her.
(c) I will have myself as a mirror.
Yes, I mirror myself – through my stories. My stories shows me what I need to see about myself to find who I am without any stories.