Kick deadly, be a hunk, bite the dust, look and feel no pain

Kick deadly, be a hunk, bite the dust, look and feel no pain

It is very difficult for humans to say the words “He / she / they died”. What a wonderful number of euphemisms for death we have. We pass, we croak, we kick the bucket, we go home, we expire, we succumb, we go, we meet our creator, we go to our reward, we get drunk, we take a look, we rest eternally, we are lost, we finish, we bite the dust, we are liquidated, finished and annihilated. We renounce the ghost, we make the change, the transition, we fertilize ourselves, we go to the other side, we fall asleep, they take us, they rub us and they turn off. We leave, we transcend and we buy the farm. We feel no pain, we lose the race, we charge, we cross the Jordan and go with the angels. We finish, we translate into glory, we go back to dust, we wither, we give up, we sleep a lot and we take a dirt bath. It can be curtains, a fallen body, six feet under and out of our misery. We find eternal peace, new lives in the afterlife, we ride into the sunset and that’s all we write. But, in fact, we are dead.

The whole religion is based on the fact that we have to go somewhere after death. “We” are everything from our spirit and energy to our ethereal mind and body. We like it better if there is a good place for the good and a bad one for the idiots. Although the idea of ​​reincarnation lends itself to allowing everyone to have their place after having learned lessons along the way many times.

Western churches spend their lives convincing you that their understanding is THE only understanding of what happens when we die and they usually provide you with a program whereby you can put down your worldly goods, you know the ones they told you in sermons. that you should not store. to them. I have seen many families outside of the particular “went home” denomination having to face the fact that all good things were for their church and not for their family. Let’s establish a rule that if a person gives his things to a church after his death, and his sons or daughters protest, the Church has to give them back to the family. This will help the church practice what it preaches and give what really belongs to a family to the family to which it really belongs. Beware of churches that have a program for you to “honor God with your death” or “His will, a way to continue giving after your death.” Money given to the Church will be wasted and it would be more satisfying for your children to waste it than for your church. Amen.

It’s funny how if you ask someone about quantum physics or how life works, it’s such an unknowable mystery in the final analysis, at least for now. But ask a religious person what happens after death, and pfffft … that’s easy. We go to heaven, they go to hell, we are often reincarnated, we are more dead than dead, we wait in the tomb until Jesus returns, we are resurrected in a physical body, we are resurrected in a spiritual “body”, we this and that. as if they know and the truth is that they do not. Westerners would never question that the Bible knows what happens after death, although one can find all of the above in one form or another in the pages of the Bible. Like humans, the biblical understanding of death became what we see in the evangelical Christian Church today.

The Catholic Church has gotten good at adding new places where the dead go, like the unsaved, the unborn, or the unsaved at all, but it’s all bullshit. Because we can ask ourselves questions like “well, what kind of God would throw an innocent child into hell for not knowing …”, we have to find new pens for these categories of people. They are not real, yes, but they help us deal with the situation.

Missionaries rush to save the lost before they die while admitting, in some circles, that if left ignorant, a loving God would automatically transfer them to heaven upon death. I mean, they can’t help it, they were born in New Guinea or the Great Plains. I loved it when the general asked Geronimo who persecuted and imprisoned him in Florida if he wanted to go to heaven when he died. Geronimo asked if the General would also be there. “Why, of course,” was the reply greeted with a simple “Then no” from Geronimo. Hell would be for many to have to spend eternity with those who drove them crazy in this life! I mean, do you really want to spend eternity closer than ever to everyone in your church, including the same pastor day and night forever? I do not think so! Heaven can seem like one big endless meal of bored people still pretending to be what they never were on earth. It would be an eternal mandatory Thanksgiving or Christmas with the family members most never wanted to attend anyway! No, if I can go to heaven, please God, may there be quiet places where no one can find me and those I want to be with. You know, how can we do down here if we want to.

I saw a lot of death as a minister. Sometimes it was after the fact long enough to bury someone in a nice funeral in a nice setting. Sometimes I would find myself standing on the bank of a river as they searched for a lost one or was taken to a morgue to retrieve the corpse of a child or friend from a drawer for a private family look. I even dug a grave once on a farm while we waited for the family to arrive for a funeral and quick burial on the same day. I have collected the cemains, ugh, what a word, from people I had just talked to a few days before, now reduced to about 10 pounds. of gray sand. I have transported the carefully wrapped body of a newborn to another city in the back seat of my car, as the couple could not afford the funeral home to do so.

I once visited a mother, just socially, who spent much of the visit counting her daughter’s talents, abilities, and beauty, which is normal when a father is very pleased. I remember thinking specifically about the way home “how would I manage if I lost that daughter, who was the center of everything the mother lived? When I got home, the phone would ring and I would return to the hospital where this young woman ended up of being brought fatally run over at number 18, crossing a street wrong. Difficult things. I lost a nephew on a train who couldn’t get his attention while using his walkman. I lost a brother-in-law yesterday.

As a hobby, I started working as a paramedic. I learned why so many paramedics are overweight and smoke like chimneys. Pure stress. Most paramedics are wonderful caretakers, but they often face the most horrendous human deaths. They eat and smoke too much and have too much fun. I do not blame them. I will not tell what I have seen. You just have to know that I have seen it. Death at its worst. A soldier could certainly overcome that.

The point seems to live in the moment, staying both out of the past of our lives, where we tend to store our anger and pain, as well as the future, where we store our anxiety and all that is unknowable. Nobody knows what happens when you die. Just saying that is stirring the pot of religious security. I know, no one but YOU.

There are some great past life stories that some remember in amazing detail. Hmmm, it could be. Even the Bible gives the account of the blind man who made the disciples wonder if the man’s blindness was the fault of his parents or his own sin, “that he was born blind.” At least we have to admit that there is room for questioning that if one is born blind due to sin, the sin must have taken place in a previous life. No other explanation is possible. Some in the early church believed in reincarnation. General George Patton was famous for knowing where he had fought as a Roman soldier in a previous life, while fighting again during WWII in Europe. He wasn’t kidding and no one was making fun of him either.

There are stories of those who have left their bodies in near-death experiences only to return and recount the experience in detail that only a, well, “Ghost” could give. They were evidently called to end their lives and everyone who experiences such a thing is never afraid of death again. It is well worth the experience, if only for that little tranquility, I would say.

Stories abound of those who received organ transplants donated by those who died, only to mysteriously acquire the deceased’s taste for food, books, or familiarity with subjects they had never studied in their own lives. This would give credence to the idea that cellular memory can be transmitted. Wow … pretty inspiring stuff and not just a little creepy.

Rude religions make a lot of money from the masses who need to buy their places in the Kingdom of God. I remember once shoveling a path buried in feet of snow for a woman who later repaid me with Catholic indulgences. They gave me 90 days less in Purgatory. I told him I was a Presbyterian. She smiled and closed the door. I almost pushed the snow onto the road.

I am glad that so many can be so sure that they know what happens when they die. Some just know it because they read it in the Bible without ever thinking that even that book is just another attempt by humans to figure this out. Some simply know it to be true because it is “true to me.” Some feel it has to be true or what is the point. One cannot die for nothing after learning all these things in life. And some just know that what they know is true because somehow even science can prove it.

As I mentioned earlier, yesterday my brother-in-law died just two days after being told he could live another three months. If ever there was an example of a mind saying, “uh, no, I think I have to go now,” that was it. It just went away, and I believe on its own terms. Or maybe he died, or he went home, or bit the dust, or left his world, or he became mertilized, he transcended, he lost the race, he got paid, he was transferred to glory, he is on the heavenly shores, of his misery, taken For Angels, they found peace, they entered the field of zero point, the great beyond, they rode into the sunset and that was all he wrote.

In any case, that man I knew as Jim did well in this lifetime and like tens of thousands on the planet every day, he went somewhere hopefully free now as a conscious spirit who had a human experience in a suit. Carbon-based, five-way, limited neoprene. now it’s free. Peace my dear friend … call me when you can and tell me what it is about! 🙂

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