Questioning the nature of consciousness is like:

A fish asking for proof that water exists,

Though it’s never experienced anything other than water.

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A room questioning the nature of space,

Though what it contains is the same space that the universe exists in.

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A movie trying to prove the existence of the screen,

Though is a play on the screen no matter how many times you switch the channels.

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A robot asking its creator “what is my purpose?”

Pretty sure the answer isn’t pass the butter, though it would be hilarious.

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A video game character asking about the nature of its existence,

Though it was never anything other than an aspect of the game in motion.

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So at this point I have been to 5 funerals this year, and it’s been a sobering experience. It’s forced me into deep depression, for which I am grateful for because I wouldn’t be where I am without these experiences.

The hardest part of a funeral isn’t that the person is gone. It’s that you have unfinished business with them.

The most humbling aspect of a funeral is that it reminds you of your mortality. It sobers you up, and forces you to look at life as is. In a weird way, it is an invitation from God to drop all illusions and seek only happiness, peace, and fulfillment.

The most beautiful part of a funeral is that it is ultimately a celebration of life. It brings people together, reminds people of how much love and joy a single person engenders through the connections in our lives. It teaches us to love and cherish life for what it is.

The strangest part of a funeral how it imparts its lessons. It teaches people to love through farewells, it invites people to live happily through grief, and it imparts gratitude for what we have through loss.

The most poetic part of the funeral is that it is a completion of a cycle. From the womb whence you came, now you return to the earth, becoming one with nature. For what is stardust shall return unto itself, for you were always the universe in motion. Though the forms may change, beyond the silence lies peace, and sleep is its teacher.