My Prayer

FD_19

I reckon being separated from people in life helps to prepare us for their absence in death. And when they die, their lives take on a new shape and significance. Where a life has been full and complete, we can only celebrate it.  We express its value in the currency of contribution, influence, relationship. Where there has been pain and suffering, we view death as a release. Quality of life is valued over mere existence.

And wherever death is unexpected or premature, we value the human potential that has been lost. So often the prematurely bereaved become campaigners and even reformers, honouring the memory of their loved ones by seeking to save others from the same misfortune. Their lives … and deaths, we hear time and again, will not have been in vain.

Avoidable death is a constant spur to human progress. It challenges politics, economics, ethics – to my sceptical ear, diminutives with a sonic similarity to ‘antics’ and ‘frolics’ – by reminding us that within each word there beats a moral heart … respectively liberty, equality, fraternity. And no other human right outguns the right to life.

But whatever the circumstances, death can be the moment that life burns brightest. With our last breath we pass into the collective consciousness, an apotheosis far superior to any egoistic notion of individual transcendence. This is poignantly described in the second verse of Wilfred Owen’s  Anthem For Doomed Youth (quoted below) where the dead can be said to pass into folk memory. Funeral elegies and fond memories held in common can bring us back to life where we really belong, in the hearts and minds of others.

What greater incentive could we have to slip the reins of ego and gallop free of death’s burdensome saddle? What greater reward for a good life could we hope for than to be recalled with a grateful smile? What else could have driven great artists through the present pain of creation but the knowledge that they might live on in their masterpieces?

And my prayer?

Let not humankind curse me for a destroyer but praise me for a creator.

 

“I am human, and nothing of that which is human is alien to me.”   –  Terence

 

‘Days’

What are days for? Days are where we live. They come, they wake us time and time over. They are to be happy in: where can we live but days?

Ah, solving that question brings the priest and the doctor in their long coats running over the fields.

Philip Larkin

 

What candles may be held to speed them all?
      Not in the hands of boys, but in their eyes
Shall shine the holy glimmers of goodbyes.
      The pallor of girls’ brows shall be their pall;
Their flowers the tenderness of patient minds,
And each slow dusk a drawing-down of blinds.
Wilfred Owen

 

Advertisements

14 thoughts on “My Prayer

    1. So sorry to hear that … as a father and grandfather, I can’t imagine anything worse than the loss of a child. To carry their remembrance begins as a burden, I suppose, but becomes a blessing – hope that doesn’t sound glib or trite.

  1. Far too many good friends who have gone far too early. They are remembered well. They were creators all, enhancers and givers. I miss them greatly but celebrate their lives. Thanks Dave. It’s good to be reminded.

  2. The quote by Terence Days reminds me of one by Montaigne on his conviction that nothing that can happen to men is inhuman; “Every man bears the whole form of the human condition.” in his essays (book III).

    Great piece.

    1. Thanks for the Montaigne quote … reminds me in turn of Walt Whitman’s ‘I contain multitudes’ … oh, and I meant the Roman writer Terence, ‘Days’ is the title of the Larkin poem!

  3. Very Well Written. If WordPress allowed me to favorite blogs, not just like, this one would be the first one that I would have considered to hold in memory. Fantastic writing

  4. I’m not a great fan of death and I’m not keen for it to come calling for me any time soon, but it does perhaps make life more precious and give it something of a point. (Talk about looking on the bright side!) 🙂

    1. Thanks for your perceptive comment. I agree with you. I found this post uncomfortable to write but I wanted to find an alternative to the supernatural perspective that now presents us with a problem rather than a solution. I intend to develop my sacred life idea in future posts, with lighter interludes of humour and satire!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s