Suicide--The Call Home

When I was a young adolescent, and contemplating suicide, I wondered if perhaps I was crazy for wanting to die. Everyone else I knew seemed so happy.

A much older version of me now looks back, and understands that in many ways that child is in fact gone. I have died and been born many times, and will go on doing so as my mind expands and my understanding of who I am in this time space reality continues to grow. This is not only true for me, but for you as well. Who you are today, is not who you were ten years ago, nor should you be.

Suicide is not about death. It is about a wanting--a wanting for peace. The more off course a soul is the greater the call of death. The more pure and gentle a soul--the more intense are those external experiences that become like razors to a souls heart. Suicide can become like a trumpeters blow, calling a soul home--back to peace.

The tragedy is not in the death...The tragedy is in the life that, for whatever reason was deprived of its right to be--to exist--and to know joy.

The tragedy is not in the resting of the soul. Instead, it is in the experiences of the life that learned it was not good enough--that it was ill--weak--inappropriate--defective, and not worthy.

But even death is an illusion. As are all our silly so called mundane problems--for life for all beings is a temporary thing--more like a piece of dust traveling through space than a mountain on a molehill.

Life equals life and its value is not determined by race, creed, religion or by dollars and cents. All beings--all life exists by the same luck of the draw. Only ignorance and short sidedness could believe anything less.

Brothers and sisters all are we. The earth our mother, heaven our father, and life the gift of the universe itself. The trees protect us, the grass comforts our feet, and the sun blankets us in warmth. Rain washes us, renews and restores us, and reminds us to sit back and be thankful for it all.

Love all things, if not with your words, with your heart, and remember often that all life is a temporary thing, and that even death itself is an illusion. Death is the door that returns us to the place we existed before we entered this physical time space reality, wherever that place is...