In immortality, “love”—as we know it—is dead.
To properly write this, I may dabble in abject logical nonsense… the very same claptrap employed by the pious and frog-necked—which unfortunately has shaped our society as we know it. Bear with me, please.
“In immortality, humanity is dead”—and would make sense to the religions of the world. This is simple enough. The human is presumed mortal; and the immortal is not human; therefore necessarily doing without all traits and aspects of humanity: life, care, fun, empathy, envy (and all other emotions) love, food, nature… dare I say Earth herself.
However, if we keep earth as a place of living—rather than this rock floating in dark space which has symptoms like nature and stupidity, just to name a few—it endures through time and transcends mortality. Recall: In the tales of the immortals, they too had a place to live. The immortal Greek occupied Olympus, the immortal Viking occupied Valhalla, the Aesnir occupying Asgard (home of Thor, the famous hammer-wielding thunderous air-head brute… also the father of throwback Thursdays), the immortal elves occupied the woodlands, the immortal Christian occupied Heaven and Hell, the immortal Muslims… well, the same thing, and so on, and so on. Dare I add another on to these magnificent list of immortals: the immortal human! The prodigal superset of the religious. According to the religious creed of humanity, these immortals occupy Earth—a pretentious paradise which hides its glamor in trenches of human incompetence. Think twice on this… “immortal humans”. Think twice on this… “The prodigal superset of the religious”. In this light we can find the location of paradise for the religious human, technically. In this light we can then see, earth will persist; earth will transcend; if not in nature as is, in mind as conceived. However, this is not my concern.
The immortal abode is not the only thing, according to the tales of old and bold, which defy laws of age and decay. The nature of these immortals is acclaimed to have the same traits. It may be the case that age curses them they way it curses humans. For there are hierarchies in immortal domains: Chronos, father of Zeus, father of Perseus; Odin, father of Thor, father of Magni; Jor-El, father of Kal-El, and so on. So we see, Time exists in the realm of the immortals of legend …however, time seems to progress slower in the domain of the immortal. And if you know anything about time, you’d realize it’s one of them too, an immortal.
These beings then have enough time to make as many mistakes as needed to learn “the way” and abide by it. They could choose to be hunters and gatherers, democratic republics, and dare I claim… ascetics and fanatics. Whatever the path chosen, there is enough time to perfect the art. This perfection is a reduction of all concepts into method. A step-by-step which not only demystifies wonder but also provides a recipe to create it. This inadvertently breaks the experience creating an observer, removing the performer from the performance, the story from its teller. You, dear reader, must have felt this: in love, kindness, envy, even joy. The stories of these immortals—those carried through the ages by humans—portray deep wisdom in different areas of life, and humans latch onto these like leeches. These humans who are ever to deceptive, cunning, ever so masterful in hiding their immortal nature, hiding behind this mask to scrutinize other immortals.
I thought on this for a while. I worried why we were so concerned about other immortals as humans. See, I am drawn to concepts like immortality for reasons unconventional; and being negro—African to be precise—furnishes these thoughts with enough practical evidence; practical evidence which draws out the immortal from its human shell. Because of this, the light-headed easygoing mind, blind seeker—whatever they call themselves by—now have access to bits and pieces of immortality, the immortality of the human. Slowly but surely, many are beginning to realize, and walk, in their immortality.
Be aware of your immortality.
Be aware of its consequences.
And as a parting gift to all those who seek immortality, or at least try to—be it in life or in death, by ownership or transference—recall the conversation between Huike and Bodhidharma
Huike said to Bodhidharma, “My mind is anxious. Please pacify it.”
Bodhidharma replied, “Bring me your mind, and I will pacify it.”
Huike said, “Although I’ve sought it, I cannot find it.”
“There,” Bodhidharma replied, “I have pacified your mind.”