Dust to Dust

I tend to spend quite some time choosing how I’m going to start a post. I have this thing inside of me that has a way of planning out exactly how I’d like things to flow. Some call it being meticulous, which is a trait that a lot of people have, of course being separated by varying degrees of intensity. Its normal to have a plan of how you want things to pan out though, regardless of how meticulous you are.

I have found that the average human has an idea of how they would want both the exciting and mundane elements of their lives to flow. We all have a version of our “Ideal life” that replays within the fabrics of our brains’ neuropathways. It normal to imagine and its healthy to visualise. But as much as our minds love to imagine the desired flow of life events, it’s a no brainer to say that things play out quite differently in reality, especially when it comes to death.

With exception to some very special circumstances, our death is something that we never see coming, let alone imagine very often.

Over the past couple of months, I have been exploring the meaning of mortality and how I relate with it. A subject I’ve decided to term as “The reality of our mortality”. I’ve learnt how we sometimes take for granted the fact that we are one day going to cease to exist and the only thing that will be left of us is the value (both tangible and intangible) that we brought to the world around us.

With this revelation, I have tried to live every day of my life with that reality in full consideration. I can honestly say that it has affected my outlook on many things.

One thing that I’ve realised is we, myself included, sometimes focus on things that in all fairness do not matter as much as we think or believe. There are many things that I stress about that now make me pause and ask the question “So what?”. Like honestly, So what! It begs to ask the question “If I knew I was dying tomorrow, would I really be stressing over this?”, probably not. And the truth is, I really could die tomorrow, that’s how unpredictable this life is.

Honestly if I knew I was dying tomorrow, I either know exactly or would have a rough idea of how I would want to spend my last moments. Isn’t that how we should live everyday though? With the reality of our mortality in full consideration? I happen to think so.

“We therefore commit this body to the ground, earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust; in sure and certain hope of the Resurrection to eternal life …”

The Book of Common Prayer, 1662, p. 189

If you have attended a good number of Christian funerals, the quote above is nothing that you haven’t heard before. It is what it is. From dust we were formed and to dust we shall return. The cessation of life on earth is final. There shall be no other life like we know it down here. That’s a reality, our reality.

Our mortality is something that we all share. We’re all going to die, and I know it can be a little awkward and unnerving to talk about death sometimes, but I think it’s okay to be aware of it. I know for a fact that death (not my own of course) during the pandemic has taught me a lot about living. I know that losing loved ones has opened my eyes to realise how quickly things can change.

So where does that leave us? Well, it leaves us right at the heart of life and what it means to live. It leaves us right where we are, unable to control the what’s forthcoming while fully recognising that it shall be upon us one day. It leaves us with an opportunity to love, care, appreciate, honour, develop and finally, rest. So that when the day comes, we cross over to eternity knowing that our mortal lives on this earth served a purpose

There’s nothing we, in our human capacity, can do to escape death. The measures we take to prolong our lives are measure that do not stop death from approaching but postpone its arrival. That alone is enough to carefully consider how we live our lives.

What if we paid more attention to the things that give significance to our mortality? Things that when we look back at our lives, leave us with a feeling of contentment with how we lived, why we lived that way, and what we lived for. Think of the beautiful story that a life lived intentionally would tell.

The pain that death causes to the loved ones of a deceased person is inexpressible in its fullness, and the truth is, each one of us will one day be that deceased person: leaving our loved ones behind. But with the pain comes joy, a reassurance of knowing that the deceased lived a life that told a unique and beautiful story.

The best part in all this is we have the power to decide how to live. So that when our bodies return to the same dust with which we were formed and our souls are reunited with our maker, what we leave behind inspires a new way of living.

---

Hey y’all, So I know I haven’t posted in a while, and I have no excuse except that I’ve been in a prolonged slump, but I’m determined to be a bit more consistent with my posts. Be sure to leave a comment below. Thanks for your time!