Sunday, June 28, 2009

This Vessel....

I've been thinking a lot, with all the celebrity deaths we've experienced lately, about this vessel we travel in during our time on this earth. It is so resilient -- but paradoxically it's so fragile too.

Michael Jackson went (seemingly) stunningly fast, but Farrah Fawcett held on until she literally couldn't perceive life/people/events around her. Her struggle, as related by the people around her (I watched a TV show about it) was SO brutal. Lots of love for her, but OH the lingering!

My own mother's story seems like an amalgam, a sudden setback, but then a lot of suffering. I don't know about you, but I saw myself and my mortality in my mother, the coming story to be repeated.

In addition the Farrah story reminds me of my neighbor Regina's struggle (again with cancer). I spent a lot of time with Regina in the final months. More than anyone else except paid nurses, I think.

Each an unimaginably deep loss, for friends, family, the unique person inside their aging vessel.

I've also been thinking about other people (in addition to mom and Regina) who aren't lucky enough to get the attention of the world when their time comes. Darfur, Iran, Iraq, Afghanistan...not to mention the endless parade of cancer sufferers, accident victims, etc.The world is FILLED with these stories.

That's why I wish CNN would get the super duper Michael Jackson headline off their site and go back to covering the news. Michael's gone, whether or not we know every little detail the minute it's knowable. Yes it is news, and he obviously suffered in ways that most of us would never understand, being in a fishbowl for life, but the good that journalism can do is not manifested in this endless prurient obsession with every detail of this.

For a loving and insightful tribute to Jackson, see what the amazing Deepak Chopra has written.

Let's play his music (link included mostly because of the dancing), and make other music instead.

Then I look at my nephew's kid (the pictures on vacation at the beach), whose body looks so much like mine did when I was 8, and then I look at myself in the mirror, and I'm struck by the changes in the vessel.

Which reveals the most unforgiving part of all...time ticking away, no time outs...

For now, time to go ... I usually end these posts with a joke.

This time...I got nothin'.

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