Threshold - 門檻 - Ménkǎn
Why mourn a fallen cocoon
if the butterfly has already flown?
Why despair for the dearly departed
who no longer struggle with pain?
confused with selflessness-
Death is one of the few given outcomes in life, yet we fear it to no end. We immaturely deny its presence or refuse to take it into account. In this chaotic world where few things are stable enough to serve as reference points, death is an absolute assurance.
Death is not an end. It is a transition. Transformation occurs through decay. What dies with the physical form is a sense of identity. Identity is a falsity itself. Death is the threshold which all lives eventually come upon. Beyond it...something else, a mystery for each person to discover. We can only be sure that it is unlike this life.
Do not equivocate when stating that death is definitive. The closest anyone can reference is a near-death experience, which is not death itself.
I have gone to the edge
and come back.
Looking over the mess
of whirring machines
and soft cries
caused by my ignorance,
I finally realize
life's true worth.
Had I not come back, I would truly know death, but I did not go over. I came back. I cannot truly know death, but I know it exists, and I know how close I got to the edge. It is a place I do not wish to revisit, but I know I must. With perseverance, that reunion will hopefully come far later in life.
What questions often go through our heads at funerals, wakes, or remembrances? We wish to ask the departed how it felt, where they went. We can only look upon a corpse. Whatever was once animated is no more. The person we knew is no more. Our memories maintain the illusion. What is the use of mourning over a lifeless shell when the spirit rejoins the infinite?
Death defines life's limits. Within these limits, there is structure upon which we can base our decisions. Whenever one deems that life has been fulfilled, it is simple to accept death and depart for the portal to another existence.