"The one for whom I walked to the cross, carries me in her arms."
Thank you, my love. Meeting you was a turning point in my life. That hidden part of a magical fairy tale, which usually starts from the end and is never voiced, touched me. I live in it. In the fairy tale with you. Where every moment is unpredictable. Where challenges alternate with rewards, solitude with unity, joy with sorrow, tension with relaxation. I feel a deep need for you, and I believe you feel the same need for me.
Let's dance, the dance of our life, and even death will not part us.
The wind blew us from the lake, the waves looked like the sea, children dug trenches, scooped holes, looked for little shells. I almost cried from this moment. Life blew us, we felt the air we breathe. Rules, laws, limitations at this moment gave way to life, gave way to understanding the value of each moment. All this is temporary. Everything can end at any moment. And even if you were to live a full 100 years, it would be too little. Too little for such moments, too little for life. The rustle of a little leaf in the wind moves the clock's hand. This hand brings us closer to the end. How I want to meet again. Again in eternity: And let there be arguments, pain, complaints, and shouting. I will learn to love even that.
A serious question, meanings lost, they flew away. The tiny ones, which were held onto. Professional meaninglessness, should it be avoided? Or, on the contrary, should one somehow grasp onto it so as not to invent other concerns for oneself?
Living in meaninglessness? How is this? What does it provide? Does it bring one closer to something grand? Something bright or true? Viktor Frankl would have said that a person quickly disappears if he lacks meaning. And Nietzsche would have remarked that if you know the 'why', then the 'how' hardly matters.
This seems true. But should one cling to everything that comes to hand? Or should one try to be a good housewife, nurturing children and blessing everyone with her love? This is compatible and close to my main life's meaning. But there are some perhaps natural barriers that prevent full commitment. The need or vision of some social-organizing function. To do something, to create, to decide, to issue something. And, undoubtedly, undoubtedly it's meaningful, and that which aligns with personal purpose.
Meaning - love. Actions - ???? Why are all actions meaningless? What's happening to them, what's that about? I once considered myself healthy.
A good test, I truly don’t know what to do, how is a different question. So after this crisis, there will be a sequence of tasks:
Clean up – done, feeling joy.
Then, for example, sort out the inbox and wait for it to fill - done and life is under control.
Plan socially useful things! - Done. The world is ahead! You can run!
Here the cycle is closed. Because all this planning/cleaning is just an imitation, suggesting life is under control.
But it really doesn't want to be under control. And it won't be. Because fundamentally - we are all mortal, and there's nothing to do about that, everything else is just intermediate stages.
So, what to do? Clean up, or not? I paused for a few minutes. Ksyusha came in, wanted to play. I said I was very busy. "I don’t know what to do." And she says: well if you don’t know what to do, you could play with me.
And a thought slipped by: "Unfavorable," but can something else be achieved in this game? Some additional benefit. This "benefit", for its sake, wastes life, wastes meaning, wastes the "here and now."
Is there such a type of sinners: "profit-lovers"? It seems to me, a prevalent disease now.
Death. Dark and cold, painful. That's how I read in books and heard from others. But in my mind, death seemed quite different. Unclear how. In theory, it's something bad, but in practice, I never felt horror at the fact that someone died. On the contrary, I often imagined this scenario in my head. With obvious benefits and changes in my own life. I was repulsed by such thoughts, such disdain for relatives and acquaintances. I do not agree with these thoughts, but they came to me. To this, I can add my perception of death as a bright, life-affirming hope. Hope for how good it is for a person to meet God, with eternal joy. How good it is for him, how he is now always in space, knows everything, and is certainly not sad. How he met all his loved ones, hugged, and rejoiced. And of course, every person goes straight to Heaven! And this hope, it is like faith, some great certainty. I truly believed that this is how it is.
Wavering
I close my eyes. I understand that I live for myselfч. I don't care about other people, maybe sometimes. But I want it to be different, I want to love everyone, to be kind, and never to be bad. Or else they will judge, they will think I am bad if they know what's in my mind. And my calm attitude towards the death of loved ones does not give me peace. Perhaps I invented the great joy after death to justify my indifference to the death of loved ones. After all, I am not worried because I believe and see how good they are now. This thought torments me and gradually goes away. And again, I am fine, again I believe, again I am certain.
A week ago, I boasted of my certainty about the fate of people after death. And a reasonable person says to me: No one knows what's after death. No one knows... How cold and painful it is in the soul. No one knows. Life after these words can never be the same. No one knows. That's when I wavered, that's when I was shaken. Where did that confidence go? How to live on? Huh?
Escape
I love the morning, I love to walk, breathe, listen, and watch the day begin. Yesterday, someone told me that with my early walks, I meet God. Yes, truly. How can one not agree? I haven't read prayers for a long time, but I continue to meet God. I am very pleased with this arrangement. And there are many proofs that it's exactly this way. I tried listening to audiobooks during my walks, but it didn't stick. I walk, and I think about life, about my loved ones, about God. I thank Him for today. Especially grateful when, passing through the forest, I hear a bird, or the enchanting scents intoxicate me. And when I see something beautiful, I'm also very grateful. I perceive all this as received gifts, found treasures, like some unexpected windfall that cannot be acquired. Just wake up in the morning, and go search.
Today was special. I barely got up, the alarm was snoozed about 7 times, so instead of a good morning, I ended up waking closer to seven. It happens to me that if I oversleep a bit, the mood isn't great, and in general, I don't feel like getting up. But today was an unusual morning. I knew exactly that I was going to meet God. And that inspires. The kids were already rustling in their room, could wake up soon, and then the meeting with God would have been overshadowed. Quickly, I went to the door, and decided to put on my shoes outside. The door closes, and already I feel lighter. They won't catch me here. I go for a walk with a clear conscience and complete freedom.
The First Treasure
When I approached the forested asphalt path, I felt joy from the fact that the morning fog had not yet dispersed and was still thick. With gratitude, I stored this treasure in my treasure box. The beauty of the morning is that it brings a somewhat abstract and highly dynamic substance to the material world. Fog, which hides from the sun. It's evident that the fog remained mostly where it was shielded by trees, hills, and the forest. And only the new rays of light pierced through it. These sun rays materialized, making the entire path of sunlight visible. Like air that glows in certain places. As if in a dusty room, a bright ray of light enters through a window, and now its path is clearly visible in the reflection of floating dust. It's interesting because these rays are what destroyed the fog. It turns out that the subject of my fascination is the process of the fog's destruction. One could equate it with the burning of fire.
The satisfaction from such a treasure is immense; I take photos, observe the surroundings. Not many birds, so the whole impression is visual. I catch myself feeling satisfaction in a quantitative manner, glad that there is more fog than usual, or perhaps even more than I've ever seen before. In short, I measured with a metaphorical ruler and realized that I should rejoice. Although simple aesthetic pleasure was present too. How all of this is complex and confusingly mixed in my head. I wish it were clear, conceptual, and predictable.
More Treasures
I keep walking forward, because I'm always curious: what's ahead? What could be there? How might it be? It's a mystery waiting to be solved, a treasure that must be found. There are so many treasures on our path, tiny ones, grand ones, prepared just for us. I love collecting treasures, love making discoveries, accepting something unbelievably free of charge.
At some point in my journey, I see just a dark fog, so much fog that I can hardly see anything. This mystery, this limited field of vision, is so tempting, where with every step something new is revealed, where you can't see far, meaning you can't predict what awaits you ahead. Wonderful conditions for discoveries, for new impressions. One can dream that with just one more step, something incredible will appear.
I deviate from my usual path, taking a small trail among the trees. Fear rises within me. I'm afraid of boars, dogs, people, or maybe something else. I fear the unknown and yet I'm drawn to it; everything is mixed up. But the desire for something new prevails. So, I just keep walking, even though I'm scared. After a while, I emerge into a field. A large mown field, entirely shrouded in fog. The sun hangs low above this mist, large, visible, and perfectly shaped. And the entire field is dotted with white patches. It's the fog caught in the spider webs. There are so many webs in the field that it wasn't immediately obvious what they were.
Invisible to All
And here I am, in the midst of the field. I usually don't like walking across fields; it feels awkward. It's not a path or a road. Fields are typically in plain view. There's always this critical voice in my head, wondering, what will people think? What am I doing here? Usually, but not today. The fog envelops me, protecting me from prying eyes. I realize no one can see me, nor will they, as I can't see anything beyond a handful of earth in front of me and the hazy sun pointing the way.
For the first time, I felt like the character "Hedgehog in the Fog". I walk and think, can this really be happening? Walking aimlessly across the field, aware that I can't see what lies ahead, there's a surreal quality to it. It's very much like real life. You shield yourself with justifications, hide behind lofty goals or actions, but in reality, you're just wandering, understanding little, yet compelled to move forward. And so, you press on.
The Earth Burns Beneath My Feet
Suddenly, I see how the forest consumes a part of the sun. It becomes clear that I'm approaching some edge. About 100 meters ahead, the field ends, the forest begins, and beyond it, the sun gets swallowed. It's beautiful to watch the sun transform, hiding behind the trees. It's particularly captivating with the ever-present fog. Beautiful, intriguing…
But at some point, I realize that it's not just beautiful anymore. Something grander is happening. The space around me burns like the burning bush before Moses. It's extraordinary, mesmerizing, astonishing. Everything unfolding paralyzes me and screams: this is incredible. It's unimaginable that something can be this beautiful. Impossible to conceive, or even to dream about. My heart fills with joy, gratitude, wonder. Thoughts race through my head, this is it, this is the long-awaited encounter with God. An encounter with beauty, mystery, wonder, something impossible and incomparable.
Through the trees and the fog, rays emanate from the sun in every direction. These beams illuminate everything in their path. They fall evenly onto the ground before me, rise to the sky, and spread to the sides. I witness and feel the incredibility of what's happening to me right now. I take many photos. I want to preserve this, I want to share this miracle. For some reason, I really want others to agree that this is a true miracle. Though it's for me, my intimate, personal wonder. After these thoughts, I stop taking photos, but I can't leave, even though it's long past time to return. I stand, unable to leave, not wanting to depart. I pray, thank, rejoice, look, and can't believe my eyes. I reflect on my life, my path, which is also in the fog, where it's unclear where I'm going, what I'm doing here, or where I might end up. But this miracle gives me hope. Go on, wander, search, listen to your heart. And you will find Me, you will meet Me, and it will be the most anticipated encounter of your life, a meeting that will more than make up for all these wanderings in the fog.
To Home
My heart was filled with joy, faith, a miracle, and immense gratitude for such a response to my longing, to my search.
I went home, no, I didn't just walk, I practically flew. Inspired to return home and share everything that had happened to me.
The day continued; it was a very challenging one. Yet, the miracle of the morning transformed and recolored all the events of that day. It gave hope, light, and love to all difficult questions.
Grandma Toma
In the evening, we learned that the life of my Dasha's beloved grandmother had come to an end. Grandma Toma quietly departed for the other world. Tears, silence, conversations, prayers, watching movies, explaining to the children, reviewing photographs, more conversations, and tears again, amidst profound silence.
Yet, in my eyes, there's still the miracle that illuminated Grandma Toma too. How much I began to trust God, to whom Grandma went. Because He, having created such beauty, welcomes her to Him. That brought me joy. Warmth. Even though I don't have any specific knowledge about death and life after death. I only have a feeling. I only have my perception, maybe like dreams, like waiting, like longing.
Knowing about the various complex interpretations of Orthodox beliefs regarding life after death, I still significantly simplify my views, to those desired events that I wish would happen to all the people who die, and specifically with Grandma Toma.
I Imagine
There she is, now free to traverse vast spaces. Here she is with us in the room, where we sit around the table. And she is with us here, smiling at our unawareness. She comforts us, saying, "Here I am with you, my family. All is well." I also imagine that she has met her deceased loved ones who were waiting for her and whom she was waiting to meet. Their reunion is also filled with joy. This gives hope that we too will see her again after some time and share the joy and love. Not to mention the meeting with God and His Light and Love. But that's a bit more difficult to imagine. Although it's clear that we are parted now, and it's sad, and tears well up. And Dasha cries too.
Questions
And so you ask yourself a question, you are an adult man, you've imagined something about how and what will be. You've gathered everything you'd like to believe, but should it really be so? Where are the guarantees? Questions pierce faith, slightly shaking it, scientific mathematical models arise from different angles.
Answers
And so, this miracle with the sun through the fog comes to the rescue. And I begin to reflect: Here I am, a human being, making up something humanly good and beautiful for the grandmother and all the deceased. Yet I couldn't even conceive, wish, or imagine something similar to the beauty I encountered this morning. To that indescribable joy, miracle, something astonishing.
This is my answer from God. My perception of life with God after death is a reference point. Something that could be called 0. But God has prepared for people a joy that is inexpressible. Which is incomprehensible, and of course, not understood by us here.
And so, there's goodness in my heart.
Because if not what people themselves wished for after death, then something much better.
