at the end of it all – my obituary

Writing Prompt: In Loving Memory

Write your obituary.

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zaji didn’t want to be good or bad. she wanted to be wild and free. she wanted to run naked through an open field in the hot summer rain and dance with her sister friends by the light of a full blue moon.

she didn’t believe with great certainty in god or evolution because in the end she believed they could both be wrong. but she believed in love and experienced pain. she believed in our ability to create beauty, even as we seemed determined to create ugly.

zaji saw this ugly and watched it manifest through hate, prejudice, racism, violence and fear. she wanted others to see her imperfections, not shy away from them or try to cover them up in her death. she was not outside humanity. she too was flawed. she was a procrastinator who often sabotaged her own material success. but she realized it was because she didn’t much care about the machinations of this world. she saw it all as a waste of energy, energy we could use to honestly and determinedly uncover our purpose in the cosmos, our purpose for existing, for having sentience. she saw our energy better spent on peace.

she was sometimes argumentative and stubborn, but she saw this in herself and learned to be at peace with the madness of the world she so desperately wanted to change. she wanted earth to grow up, mature. but she would not live to see this maturity that still escapes those of us who are left behind to mourn and celebrate zaji’s escape.

for every imperfection zaji carried there was an abundance of love and laughter and kindness to match them. she wanted to be seen fully. no sugar coating. no lies. she wanted to be seen as an imperfectly perfect being, just as she saw all of humanity. she then wanted language and ideas to evolve so that perfect and imperfect are no longer ideas we carry, but instead archaic notions that eventually vanish because they do nothing to dissect the intricacies of our humanity and the complexities of existence. she wanted to change the vibration.

zaji wanted ubuntu. real and lasting ubuntu.

she didn’t want to know about science, she wanted to know what science could not find, like those many thoughts and imaginings that filled her mind daily. those secrets that held secrets that held even deeper secrets. she wanted to find the mystery that was there to be seen, yet hidden only because her mind could not see what was right in front of her.

she didn’t care about unbending, uncompromising belief, she cared about allowing all ideas to flower and fill the Akashic Records. she believed in possibility, strange and magical possibility. she believed in the paradox of life. she believed that belief was merely pieces of a grand puzzle that we one day might realize.

she wanted to fly away to another galaxy using wings that grew from her back in gentle grandeur. she wanted strong wings that could take her into yesterday and back into tomorrow. the future is behind. the past is ahead. the seeing is what makes it so. she wanted to be outside time and inside being and living and existing.

zaji wanted to dance for the moon and hear its laughter. some nights she danced but could not hear it, her ears were not tuned to the vibration of the sometimes sad moon, but her heart was tuned to the vibration of existence. this was her guiding compass.

she wanted to sing so everything would grow, but it all grew without her song. she knew that her love was the seed. our love made it all grow. everything green and full color grew through love and sex and passion. she believed we exist because of a strange and unexplainable passion that gave rise to molecules that gave rise to everything we see, hear, touch, taste, smell, feel.

she wanted to be remembered and forgotten all at once. because in some strange way although she felt that memory and thought were creation, forgetting was free will, the will to be self without the rules of the dead. she didn’t want her lineage to be ruled by her ideas, only enhanced by them so they may create their own ideas and own way of living.

zaji left behind children. but they were not hers—they did not belong to her. they belonged to the DNA of the galaxy, the soul of the Earth and everything in it. they belonged to self. they are life longing to remain. they carry the future of this world in their blood.

zaji loved the world she was ready to let go. she was in it, but in its sick state, it was not in her. she lived only for the potential of the planet, not for its actual state of being. she wanted to see equality, freedom, peace.

she wanted to see real peace. in the end, she flew away to a place, some place, any place. it is away from here. at the end of it all, she thought like Frida who once said,

“I hope the exit is joyful—and I hope never to return.”

zaji wanted joy and she found it. at times. zaji wanted love, and she found it. many times. but it was always inside a jar of pain and disappointment and a longing for something more, a longing for that place where everyone could live well and inside unconditional, unimposing love. she didn’t want to return here, at least not to the world in its current state. i hope she receives her wish, to never return, or to return when this planet has matured.

zaji is free now. this is the hope of everyone here.

we wrap her body in a thin shroud and place her beneath the soil, in a forest or jungle without grave stones. she wanted to commune with mother earth, not left inside an air tight box where her body could never reconnect with mother’s soil that seeds and incubates life. she wanted to be incubated by that which sprouts everything that feeds us. she wanted brown soil to beat against her shrouded still body, beating like a drum, like a heart beat. she wanted no headstone that would place her in time or give her a name. she did not want to be seen as born and died, but as always here, in some form, maybe pure energy.

we give her this wish today. she was outside time in life and will be outside time in death. we remember her name, but in the end, names are only vibrations that lock us into a single pattern of being. she knew this. she is now free to vibrate and answer to any soul who calls her by soul vibration, outside name, but inside energy. she wanted this, to hear everyone and everything, to hear heart and love vibrations, not a name, not a designation, but a feeling, deep and abiding meaning that resonates across species in the cosmos.

we commit zaji to the soil. we will follow her soon. but not yet. not yet. we must live to tell the stories of what she imagined and then leave those stories for the past, or the future— whatever serves her children’s freedom to live in the now.

until next time zaji. we’ll see you later. may the stars gather you to their bosom and give you peace.

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3 Comments

  1. Please don’t go now; wish to meet you before you leave! I have additional for you, by the name of Ubuntu, “real peace”.

3 Trackbacks / Pingbacks

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  3. Poem / Poetry – “An Ode To The Late, Great, Magnificent, Terry Pratchett” | toofulltowrite (I've started so I'll finish)

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