Saturday, October 22, 2022

The Executioner and My Obituary

My shoulders tensed up; my heartbeat pounded at its loudest. Dried tears threaten to burst out as my heart whispered, your journey has just begun! The soul-breaking and uncomprehensive mind-clenching news is here. This is the beginning of my imaginary but of a very public perception of a non-visible triage of my seemingly inexplicable and un-reasonable suppressed fear. I looked up at the television, the stock market is down, my blank unthoughtful mind just stared as a freight-train whistled across my emotion saying: “it does not matter anyway?” The nurse called me in, she added, "would you like your wife to accompany you?" The looming devastating fear is now reality. My eyes bulged with fright and confusion as I murmured. “What is happening to me?” This intense feeling of, not so much about me but, what about them? How are they going to live without me? Perhaps this is a self-valued perception, but it gives a pretty good reason to live on. Yes, my beautiful wife, my daughter, Lupe and her two kids, King and Prince. If there’s a single reason for my living on this earth, this is it! providing them shelter and food is my single greatest purpose.

 

Still the reality, I must face it: On September 6th. 2022 at 10:00 AM, my Death Sentence was handed to me. The indiscriminatory executioner with an ageless footprint’s marches in as the towering nightmare and in his hand, is the double edge sword called Cancer

 

Threatening with a dual grip, the executioner, the headsman, raised the terrifying sword over my head. As the weeping willow of my dried tears bubbled out from my heart whispering: “this sword is a living thing that can think for itself, though no one has never seen it speaking, either telepathically or else, but it has expressed itself via its actions.” Don’t be afraid, as I sunk to my knees, Lord God Almighty, sprinkle Your mercy on me! Millions of painful and sorrow journeys has been destroyed. In fact, currently, the statistic among men, one out of every seven men, is threaten by the headsman and his terrifying sword. Within the past several weeks, I willed myself to wrestle with death. I have told my wife that death will come to me slowly as dictated by my habits and lifestyle. My addictive nature to the mental state of loneliness and depression has often drove me to the edge of laboratory unpleasantness--one can study but only can whisper the undertone of the final autopsy. 

 

Perhaps Einstein said it best: “I live in that solitude, which is painful in youth, but delicious in the years of maturity.” Life has always been a journey for me. In my youth, I chosen my own paths influenced by my own intellectual emotions but dictated by energies beyond my control; weather it was the right or wrong paths, they are the paths that I have travelled and, in my maturity, I managed. The apostle wrote, “whatsoever a man [habitually] soweth, that shall he also [repeatedly] reap” Galatian 6:7. For the paths that I have taken can only lead me to those destinations. Hence, whatever, I have chosen, I have chosen to give those and receive, precisely, the same things. Why is it that we continue to deceive ourselves and think that we can give little and receive more—nonsense. However, what I am saying here is that my imaging faculty that mapped out those paths and vividly displayed those destinations are willed by my own thoughts. I often said to myself, my Journey is the manifestation of my imagination; damn those external energies that often interrupted and detoured the paths. Detoured paths took prominence on many of my journeys. I often found the detoured paths as unforgiving distorted imaginations that dug graves at the end of every detours.   


My interest in the journey itself is as significant as my interest in the destinations. The impediment to the journey is the journey itself, hence, whatever path is taken becomes the journey itself. Therefore, it becomes a series of overcoming obstacles and by overcoming those obstacles, I learned life lessons. Hence, I thoughtfully commit to our imagination that obstacles are necessary occurrences in my paths. A journey becomes a journey only when obstacles stand in the way, and we must overcome them to continue. Moreover, how is a journey is a journey if you do not meet any obstacles? Merely, we would not have anything to offer life; our emotions would be bankrupted of necessary tools to make the destination. If one’s think that the dualistic nature of the journey does not exist, they may be right, it is because they never experience the contrary. If the path is filled with hate, they have managed to atone themselves with hate and don’t see it any other way. There is an ongoing dualistic interaction that move together toward the betterment of one’s life; the obstacles on our paths play a big role a trekking pole. How can we understand Love without experiencing Hate—the obstacle is Hate and the solution is Love. What allows us to find that solution is because we had experienced the emotion of hate. As you can see, it is not a matter of choosing the right path; it is finding the dualistically contradiction of the obstacle—finding Love to overcome hate; finding rich to overcome poor; finding happiness to overcome sadness. However, these are undefined emotions that are only measurable by their results. Psychoanalysis of the human has only peaked into the biology, but we learned these results and act accordingly. Nonetheless, the fundamental question: what is love anyway?   


What I encountered during the journey externalize how I live this life. Should I be holding up signs “Destination Death.” How disinterest the world around me? Or should it be a sign that reads “Destination Life,” are you nuts? murmur the crowd. Distractions could just be that, no one person knows the inner working of someone else hearts. As one must become one with others to totally understand the togetherness of the atonement. We cannot understand the thing of the spirit by observing it, we must become oneness by self-abandonment and be in synchronized union with others. It is like this, the apostle acknowledges this in Roman 8:10, “But if Christ is in you, though the body is dead because of sin, the spirit is life because of righteousness." This is the essence of our paths; Christ is the Journey and the Destination. The paths must go through life and death, and we have to accept these. If we say that life is a blessing than we automatically accept death as also, a blessing, no matter how we label it.     


Could Death be the blessing that I’ve been longing for? Can Death guide me through the development of my transitioned soul? Could my accepting the blessing of death reduced all the gifts that life has offered during my Journey to mere ashes? Nevertheless, the injustice of life, natural or human created, poured life into a pot of evil extravaganza that inspired excessiveness. Those of the Powerful pushed life into the extreme which left those of the weaks' shivered in their state of unobserved suffering. 


Fear is now an integral definition of myself. what is it anyway? Is it a physical and biological reaction to which that is unknown and that that I will no-longer experience? Truly, at the end of the day, everything is reduced to ashes; no more needed shelter nor food. Hence, if there's nothing to protect and preserve, fear is an useless emotion. Oftentimes, fear imprisoned us to a virtual nothingness. There are specific spectrums of our lives we designated within the context of our emotions as taboo (tapu); hence, emotional fear arises when we penetrate those taboos and manipulate our actions toward the pretendative self. However, I've accepted my condition and fear has been but purposeless; hence, my loneliness and depression remains rootless. 

 

It is only a matter of time for the unseen tumor in my soul to materialistically appear in one of my organs. Cancer of the soul is the most undiagnostic cancer of all. It is the evil spirit that sooth the soul (pea lata ai au) and built her home there that often drove away loneliness. Gnome instability is the equivalent of my un-sequenced Spirit. My spirit has been liquidized and unsynchronizingly flow according to the direction of my instable gnome. I repeatedly cried out with the Psalmist, “Many are the afflictions of the righteous, but the Lord delivers him out of them all.” Psalm 34:19. This is a terrifying context, pain, war, diseases, volcanic eruption to my beloved Island, and death from the pandemic have gone rampant has only drove my internal turmoil into my anxiously awaited death sentence.

 

Until I am called, the struggle with Loneliness and depression is real. It is the affliction of my daily prevalent struggle. I mourn and plea over this ageless evil daily. I cry out together with the Psalmist, "The Lord preserves the simple; when I was brought low, He saved me. Return, O my soul, to your rest;" Psalm 116:6.

 

Dr. Bruner said, "this is just a small wrinkle on [my] journey." with that, I must find a purpose. To be continued…

 

Right before I was pushed into the surgery room, the surgeon, Dr. Bruner, stop by to see me. Gave me work of encouragement and he whispered” “God be with us”

 

 -  Tangata’olakepa

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