Everything now has a field theory, explaining connecting forces. Like the electromagnetic field for instance. For each force physicists have name a “fermion” which carries the force. Electrons carry electricity, photons transmit light etc.. Lately there has even been confirmation of the Higgs Boson, which transmits gravity, also I think called a graviton.
Why not then a field describing the force of selfishness, self interest and self-centred ness. What should we name the transmitting particle (certainly negatively charged). I propose the Freud Boson, else known as the egoton…
I was afraid of dying last night. Terrified. Full blown existential angst. It took me back to my childhood. I lay there trying to fathom why that fear was back again – my old enemy.
I realised that it is my “I” that is afraid. My ego; the confection that has spun up in this particular life of mine. I have throughout my life woken suddenly in the night with a sense that my heart has stopped – as it misses a beat – and with the immediacy of dying. Whilst it was frightening as a child and into my early adulthood, it disappeared as my faith grew that there is more beyond this life. (A faith built out of intense questioning). Indeed what lies beyond this virtual reality is all, everything. Not the nothing of our ego’s fear.
I am lucky because I have experienced good deaths. My mother had almost died and described her experience of moving toward light and love but being summoned back to this life – and her reluctance to return. This is of course common; but it’s difficult to be a doubting Thomas when your mother – a true glorious person – gifts you her personal experience. My father died after an operation and I experienced for the hours after his death his transcendental joy before disappearing. Literally he was bursting with excitement and joy before he finally left me. It was intense and real. Since then some part of the thought of death has been exciting – a way through the fundamental loneliness of life.
Lucky. Because I have known other deaths where there was fear, confusion and loss. Intensely painful rather than joyful, and I have seen how those deaths affect those left behind.
So, to last night..
I believe that our ego only exists in this particular life, like some kind of computer memory that fades when the machine is switched off. Of course my ego is terrified of death. “I” am not, however, my ego. I am part of all and will return to the everything beyond. In what way, is not for me to see here now, because our senses can only see “through a glass darkly”. I do know that in order to move beyond my fear, my work is to move beyond my ego, and back to the living and loving connection that continues and is what I anyway call God. I only use that word tentatively because it puts some people off – because many “religions” hijack this personification of all-that-is for their own purpose. Political manipulation.
A rose, however, is a rose by whatever name.
In any event, I offer my thoughts not to convert – but as a witness to hope.
The wonderful part of being male is that its the anima that you are focussing on, integration being our goal. We are more familiar with our neighbour’s house – at least the outside of it, than our own – because that’s what we look out on. The world explodes into life and interest truly when you begin to be familiar with the inside of our neighbour’s houses. All that richness of life and connection. And the only way to see the other – from the inside – is with, through and in love. Jesus said – love your neighbour as yourself. Hindus say – Namaste or Namaskar – I bow to the divine in you/in us/that we share.
Our “self” is anyway surely only the path that we tread in this life. Like any path it’s habitual, a kind of morphic resonance through time. It’s only a path, not a universe in itself. It is a joy occasionally to glimpse its irrelevance except as a platform from which to perceive the divine majesty of existence.
We live through our connections. Our connecting. That is where God’s will works. God, the word existing beyond time.
Through the discovery and integration of other, we are unshackled. From space, from time, and from the smallness of our self.
Wordsworth wrote of wandering “lonely as a cloud”. I wonder if the ego is an artificial construct, which keeps us separate and boundaried. Clouds have inchoate edges and are constantly changing, intermingling with surrounding cooler and warmer air. Since constantly in touch and part of the rest of nature I suspect they wouldn’t “feel” alone – in the way that we as a species can and do with our locked in syndrome.