On farewells
Feb 13, 2019·2 min read
If there ever has been a constant in nature, it is the change. I am a big admirer of how things grow and decay, then transform and regrow, and that really makes me sort of agree with one of most famous’ Buddha teachings: that living is suffering. But the nature of suffering is attachment.
We as humans tend to stick to every moment of joy and happiness as if there would never be another chance to be happy again. In basic physics ~which I sort of hate by the way ~we may empirically figure out that for every light directed onto an object might project a shadow on the surface it currently is. We won’t go further to discuss the dark side of things because the purpose here is to focus on the present moment, where the only constant is the change.
Seneca in his book Epistulae morales ad Lucilium discussed a lot about that between 63 and 65 d.C. on how to live a good life. Quote in my translation from a translation in Portuguese (so gimme a break if you’re messing):
“Can you indicate me somebody who values its time, values its day, and understand that one dies daily? There is where we fail ~we think that death is awaiting us in the future, but part of it is already past. Any time that has passed belongs to death.”
Epistulae I ~ “from the economy of time”
So the truth at least to me is, you should be ready to say not only our byes, but our farewells to people we may not encounter again in our lifetimes. That might be extremely hard seeing people we met before only through screens if we’re distant, or could be worse. Things can always get worse, oh yeah.
I once met a lovely girl in Dublin, Ireland in my earlier days in the country where I lived for about 20 months. I swore to god she was the ~love of my life ~ and that I would never let her go. But she was only in town for a Christmas holiday. I even tried to make that work and the girl seemed to correspond, but fate sometimes can be a real austere teacher. I visited her in Barcelona where she was living for the next two months, but then she had to go again. That stabbed a naive boy in the chest real hard. The moment in the train trying to get ready to be able to say we would meet again without being cheesy. Oh god. When the plane landed back in Ireland, it was freezing cold. It froze even a warm hearted boy for so long.
Thankfully though, the Amazon is hot as hell. Let’s correct this ~hot as heaven.
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