against passing time … Brel 1

“My death awaits among the falling leaves. leaving joel robisonIn magicians mysterious sleeves. My death waits in a double bed. Sails of oblivion at my head. Pull up the sheets. Against the passing of time.”   – Jacques Brel  <lyrics of a song>

I have no idea where I read, or heard, these lyrics from Belgian singer/songwriter Jacques Brel a french singer who was particularly well known for his lyrics.

But these lyrics hit me as a beautiful way to think about death.

Now.

Death is a scary topic <people look at you differently if you happen to bring it up>.

Heck.

Death is a mysterious topic <it can simply appear like from a magician’s sleeve>.

A Life truth?

It is difficult to not think of death, and mortality, on occasion.

It is everywhere … and nowhere <if you are smart>.

It awaits everywhere … yeah … everywhere … unseen and yet within everything you see <fall leaves for example>.

Should you seek it?

Should you look for it?

Of course not.

 

Pull the sheets up against the passing of time.

 

We should pull up the sheets against time. You aren’t hiding from the thought of death … you are simply denying that day to begin.

It is a nice thought.

Bury yourself under the warm sheets and covers to enjoy the warmth of life.

Death comes soon enough.

And there are more than enough reminders of what eventually awaits us I life.

Regardless.

I imagine the thought behind the words is while you should avoid it <as it exists everywhere> that within that ‘everywhere’ there is a beauty.

Falling leaves.

Soft sheets.

The magic of magicians.

And while Death is mysterious … it is not to be feared … but should reflect the magic of your life.

So.

I have written “do not go gently” many times before … but I also believe death should not be feared.

against the pass of timeIt certainly awaits all of us.

And at some point I would imagine we would want it to be a beautiful ending rather than an ugly ending. And I don’t mean a struggle but rather that we carry enough beauty within us at the end that people bow their heads and feel some type of real loss.

Is it a real loss?

Of course not.

People move on … and people take what beauty you may have had to offer and make it … well … more beautiful.

Death should always translate into something more. Not an ending and not even a beginning but rather a continuance of you <and whatever ‘you’ is>.

That’s what the gig is.

Who you are shouldn’t end with you.

Just as falling leaves build upon growing trees.

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Written by Bruce