Have you ever wondered about what you'd like done with your body when you've passed on? Ever pondered cremation?
The thought of cremation always bothered me. I've had this body for as long as I've had memory. I can't comprehend existence outside of this body. I can't comprehend an existence that doesn't include me, doesn't include my body. It's a lot to think about, to stomach, to handle.
The thought of death itself is distressing enough. And then to think the form of my body being changed after my death -- this body that I've been so attached to for all of my life -- I don't know. Somehow I always get stuck on that.
But tonight, gazing into the fire, into the flames and the coals -- watching the tree suddenly consumed, its whole being changed, passing into dust and ashes -- watching the chair burn away into nothing, this chair that meant so much and had so many bad feelings and memories attached to it -- it suddenly seemed so much easier to get my head around cremation.
Death is a change of form. The consummation of the fire... it seems almost fitting. Better than rotting away, a slow uneasy transformation. Fire is transcendent. Just watching it is breathtaking. To be a part of it, to be consumed by it, changed, transformed... I don't know. It's almost celestial, moreso than most anything else in my living experience.