On the joy of death and dying

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I am almost finished reading the book “Our Lady of Fatima” by William Thomas Walsh. It is considered the finest book on Our Lady of Fatima.

The two younger children, Francisco and Jacinta, (Luca also) were very much infused with the grace of a longing for heaven. It didn’t mean that they did not relish the time they were here, but they had no fear of death.

After being infused with grace through our Blessed Mother at the apparitions they had a burning desire to please the Lord in this life. Francisco and Jacinta were told that they would die first, as children, and that Lucia would be much longer on this earth for God’s purposes.

They clung to the graces they received and lived a deep prayer life.
 
I fear that you are missing out on something vital and something beautiful. God resides within us - we are to let this light shine out into the world and we are to serve one another in works of love as Jesus taught us. This depression seems to be crushing you. Help is available to you if you are willing. Jesus is life.

It’s late here so bedtime for me. If you write back, I’m not ignoring you.
I would never deny that God dwells within us and I clearly stated in my opening post that the Holy Spirit sometimes appears to me and provides me with wisdom, knowledge, and understanding. And am I not letting other see the light of God that dwells within me in my writing this thread? I never meant anybody to think I was just complaining. As the title clearly states, I believe there is a great joy to be found in meditating on death and dying, in anticipation for the great happiness that is to come to us when we reach our Heavenly home! If that’s not letting the light of God to shine out from within me to others experiencing any mental affliction, I do not know what else would.
 
As for me, I have chosen a spiritual path that has alleviated my mental ailments and has filled me with wisdom, knowledge, and understanding.
And humility, too, apparently. :rolleyes:

Why don’t you go out into the sunshine, look at the sky, take a deep breath and be glad that you are alive?
 
I sincerely apologise. I just reread your opening post. I misread it the first time but have a better understanding of it now.
 
I will always love life itself and value it highly, but not in a world filled with pain, suffering, and hardships–a world where evil undeniably thrives.
Robert, control what you can and let go what you cannot. I agree with you - we need to prioritize those who have little to nothing and find a way to give back. But at no time can we feel God’s gift of life is nothing less than a gift. Be thankful for it and enjoy the fruits of the life he created while giving back. Otherwise we may be denying the beauty of His creation.
 
Robert, control what you can and let go what you cannot. I agree with you - we need to prioritize those who have little to nothing and find a way to give back. But at no time can we feel God’s gift of life is nothing less than a gift. Be thankful for it and enjoy the fruits of the life he created while giving back. Otherwise we may be denying the beauty of His creation.
Again, I value highly God’s gift of life, but as clearly St Francis says, God made us for Heaven and not for the materialistic world we are now living in.
O Jesus, Thou hast set me apart from the world; what, then, shall I seek therein? Thou hast created me for Heaven; what, then, have I to do with the world? Depart from me, deceitful world, with thy vanities! Henceforth I will follow the Way of the Cross traced out for me by my Redeemer, and journey onward to my heavenly home, there to dwell forever and ever.
-The Way of the Cross, by St Francis of Assisi
 
And humility, too, apparently. :rolleyes:

Why don’t you go out into the sunshine, look at the sky, take a deep breath and be glad that you are alive?
And why don’t you go for a hike somewhere and stop having something negative to say about everything I post?
 
And why don’t you go for a hike somewhere and stop having something negative to say about everything I post?
Because what you post ignores the beauty of God’s creation. Even Jesus admired the beauty of the lilies of the field. Why can’t you?
 
Again, I value highly God’s gift of life, but as clearly St Francis says, God made us for Heaven and not for the materialistic world we are now living in.
St Francis saw beauty in nature for a reason…it was there.

Be careful not to take a negative worldview to the extreme. I’ve met punk rockers with the attitude: God created a horrible world, and if God does exist could not be trusted to create anything better.

God created beauty and a hint of Heaven here and now. Pope’s have written on the topic.

“I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly.” John 10:10.
 
I remember, some years ago, reading a book entitled “City of Joy”. It’s about life in the worst slums imaginable, in Calcutta. It’s just beyond belief how badly some of those people live, and yet are able to find joy in it.

I don’t remember much of it, but I do remember the story of one man fairly well. In India, it’s vitally important to see one’s children marry, and it gives rise to some truly strange things. The parents of the bride are supposed to finance gifts to the groom and pay for a lavish ceremony. Girls from families who can’t do it are rejected at best, sometimes even killed. The man in question operated a rikshaw-like contrivance. He was undernourished because he spent everything on his family. When it came to his daughter’s wedding, he did everything possible to ensure that the presents were given and the ceremony held. He died of exhaustion, but he was happy because he was able to see his daughter married.

Of all the unexpected things I read in the book, the following was easily the most surprising. One thinks of Calcutta (rightly) as being one of the worst places on earth for the poor. And yet, the slum dwellers there, who might live in a hovel made of a piece of tin for a roof and cardboard for walls (it gets colder in Calcutta than we think) were full of hope, because in Calcutta they could actually raise a bit of cash; something nearly impossible to do in the countryside where everything is barter and bad landlord arrangements. In Calcutta, you could barely earn enough to eat, most of the time, but at least you could eat most of the time. In the countryside, if the crop failed, you and your family died.

Now, I am not one who pretends to the ability to bring someone out of his depression. Depression can be intractable for a time if it’s situational or long term if it’s due to brain chemistry. But for anyone for whom it’s mild and perhaps chronically situational, I very much recommend reading “City of Joy”. One can find it on Amazon.
 
I shouldn’t have started posting here, but now that I have, I’ll recommend the well-known book “One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich” by A.S. Solzhenitzyn.

It’s about one day in the life of a guy who was imprisoned in the Soviet Gulag…an absolutely horrible place. Lack of food, hard work, cold, injustice, brutal regime, just about everything awful afflicted Ivan Denisovich. But through it all, he found items of satisfaction. In that one day, he managed to get a halfway decent bread ration. Never mind that it was gluey and wet and half made of additives, it was enough for him to divide in half so he could make two utterly inadequate “meals” out of it instead of just one utterly inadequate meal.

Sent out to lay bricks in a construction site, and half sick at the time, he managed to find satisfaction in the neat and workmanlike way he could make the line even though it was frigid and windy and utterly non-conducive to work. And, wonder of wonders, he managed to get a decent trowel, which he kept hidden when off duty so nobody would steal it. It wasn’t his, and would never be his, but he could use it for the time being and intended to take good care of it in the meantime.

At the end, he lay on his bunk with his ragged coat over him in lieu of blankets, and reflected on what a truly satisfactory day it had been.

And yet, in another novel entitled “Cancer Ward”, Solzhenitzyn’s protagonist, who was finally released as an invalid, had, for years felt that if he could only once fill his belly with black bread, he would be completely satisfied. But then, he met some men cooking a sort of Central Asian shish kebob with meat on it. He spent money he could not afford buying one stick of it and found himself eying another stick bought by another customer and envying the man of it. And, indeed, he found himself ashamed of his new-found greed, but not terribly.

And that’s us.
 
Is there anything inherently wrong with anything I have posted? Is my being joyful and optimistic about entering our Heavenly home, and encouraging others to be just as joyful and optimistic, offensive to anyone? Is meditating on death, as taboo as it may be in our culture, something that cannot be therapeutic and provide a glimpse of optimism and hope for those suffering from a mental illness? Is not Heaven meant to be our true home? If so, why do not more people take more time to meditate upon it and learn not to be afraid of their death that is necessary for them getting there? Again, I know the answer to this last question: We have been conditioned from an early age to treat death as a taboo subject and to deny that this world contains so much evil that affects each and every one of us each day of our life. Only when we get to Heaven will we become fully aware of this.
 
I remember, some years ago, reading a book entitled “City of Joy”. It’s about life in the worst slums imaginable, in Calcutta. It’s just beyond belief how badly some of those people live, and yet are able to find joy in it.

I don’t remember much of it, but I do remember the story of one man fairly well. In India, it’s vitally important to see one’s children marry, and it gives rise to some truly strange things. The parents of the bride are supposed to finance gifts to the groom and pay for a lavish ceremony. Girls from families who can’t do it are rejected at best, sometimes even killed. The man in question operated a rikshaw-like contrivance. He was undernourished because he spent everything on his family. When it came to his daughter’s wedding, he did everything possible to ensure that the presents were given and the ceremony held. He died of exhaustion, but he was happy because he was able to see his daughter married.

Of all the unexpected things I read in the book, the following was easily the most surprising. One thinks of Calcutta (rightly) as being one of the worst places on earth for the poor. And yet, the slum dwellers there, who might live in a hovel made of a piece of tin for a roof and cardboard for walls (it gets colder in Calcutta than we think) were full of hope, because in Calcutta they could actually raise a bit of cash; something nearly impossible to do in the countryside where everything is barter and bad landlord arrangements. In Calcutta, you could barely earn enough to eat, most of the time, but at least you could eat most of the time. In the countryside, if the crop failed, you and your family died.

Now, I am not one who pretends to the ability to bring someone out of his depression. Depression can be intractable for a time if it’s situational or long term if it’s due to brain chemistry. But for anyone for whom it’s mild and perhaps chronically situational, I very much recommend reading “City of Joy”. One can find it on Amazon.
Good recommendation.
 
I shouldn’t have started posting here, but now that I have, I’ll recommend the well-known book “One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich” by A.S. Solzhenitzyn.

It’s about one day in the life of a guy who was imprisoned in the Soviet Gulag…an absolutely horrible place. Lack of food, hard work, cold, injustice, brutal regime, just about everything awful afflicted Ivan Denisovich. But through it all, he found items of satisfaction. In that one day, he managed to get a halfway decent bread ration. Never mind that it was gluey and wet and half made of additives, it was enough for him to divide in half so he could make two utterly inadequate “meals” out of it instead of just one utterly inadequate meal.

Sent out to lay bricks in a construction site, and half sick at the time, he managed to find satisfaction in the neat and workmanlike way he could make the line even though it was frigid and windy and utterly non-conducive to work. And, wonder of wonders, he managed to get a decent trowel, which he kept hidden when off duty so nobody would steal it. It wasn’t his, and would never be his, but he could use it for the time being and intended to take good care of it in the meantime.

At the end, he lay on his bunk with his ragged coat over him in lieu of blankets, and reflected on what a truly satisfactory day it had been.

And yet, in another novel entitled “Cancer Ward”, Solzhenitzyn’s protagonist, who was finally released as an invalid, had, for years felt that if he could only once fill his belly with black bread, he would be completely satisfied. But then, he met some men cooking a sort of Central Asian shish kebob with meat on it. He spent money he could not afford buying one stick of it and found himself eying another stick bought by another customer and envying the man of it. And, indeed, he found himself ashamed of his new-found greed, but not terribly.

And that’s us.
Thanks for sharing, but I cannot help but wonder if these books were not meant to somehow glamorize extreme poverty in us Westerners. Having a Ph.D. in psychology, with much training in social psychology, I know how propaganda works and that it actually exists. As a research psychologist, I can’t help but wonder what the typical view is of those living in extreme poverty, especially in respect to their actually loving their life in this world living under such harsh conditions.

On the other hand, maybe reading such a book will somehow make a depressed person more appreciative of their life living here in Western society. For me, however, someone who probably has too much empathy for life in this world, I truly feel for those living in extreme poverty, and it causes me to feel more depression and to look all the more forward to my true home in Heaven. Unlike hearing about the books, however, I truly feel great joy and optimism in what the Holy Spirit has shown to me, and the knowledge has done wonders in reducing my mental afflictions.
 
1
Again I saw all the oppressions that take place under the sun: the tears of the victims with none to comfort them! From the hand of their oppressors comes violence, and there is none to comfort them!
2
And those now dead, I declared more fortunate in death than are the living to be still alive.
-Ecclesiastes, Chapter 4


Thanks to ANV for sharing this with me! There are truly empathic, loving hearts living in this world!
 
Thanks for sharing, but I cannot help but wonder if these books were not meant to somehow glamorize extreme poverty in us Westerners. Having a Ph.D. in psychology, with much training in social psychology, I know how propaganda works and that it actually exists. As a research psychologist, I can’t help but wonder what the typical view is of those living in extreme poverty, especially in respect to their actually loving their life in this world living under such harsh conditions.

On the other hand, maybe reading such a book will somehow make a depressed person more appreciative of their life living here in Western society. For me, however, someone who probably has too much empathy for life in this world, I truly feel for those living in extreme poverty, and it causes me to feel more depression and to look all the more forward to my true home in Heaven. Unlike hearing about the books, however, I truly feel great joy and optimism in what the Holy Spirit has shown to me, and the knowledge has done wonders in reducing my mental afflictions.
I am happy about your joy and optimism…gifts of the Holy Spirit!
 
We don’t all think the same way, or feel the same way, or behave the same way, and we are to meet people where they are. And, sometimes things aren’t always as they seem.

I’ve only been reading CAF again for a few days, most of those posts have been Robert’s, as he has written several posts that have filled me with concern.

I could be (and actually am) thinking: social isolation is not good for any of us as it’s difficult to serve neighbour in that situation, and also that depression requires help. I notice, too, that joyfulness and hopefulness are not manifested in the way that I would expect, etc., etc.

Robert says he feels joy and peace. And the truth is that some of the saints did choose the contemplative lives and isolation. Maybe this is the same thing.

However, I’ve noticed, too, that Robert does have some commendable qualities, which don’t stand out at first glance:
  1. God is in first place in his life
  2. He has detached himself from all things worldly
  3. He has overcome the grave temptation of suicide
  4. He prays the Rosary daily, and other prayers
  5. He gives to charity …I’m under the impression it is in greater amounts than is comfortable
Robert has written this post, has opened himself up and put himself out there, to help other people in the same situation as he has been in.

Suicide is a terrible waste of life and it may take one who understands it to steer somebody else away from it. As somebody without experience of these issues, I’m not really in a position to say this is the wrong way. People are already in a bad situation when they consider suicide, and if they’re not thinking in the same way as you or I, especially if they suffer from mental illness, we may not reach them. It may seem paradoxical to encourage thinking about death for one who is suicidal, but then again, what do I know? This may be the very thing that’s needed.
 
I used to be afraid to die, but not anymore, now the thought of leaving this world is fine to me. Non existence is always better than existence of too much pain, corruption and suffering.
I agree, but I doubt it’ll be that way. More likely, what I’m suffering now is just a brief glimpse of my eternity.
 
There are times that it may be necessary to let go. I’m thinking of an instance written about in a local paper. The person needed a drug to prevent blood clots but his insurance would not cover it. He had to file an appeal and go through all sorts of bureaucracy to get them to let him have this particular drug his doctor said he needed. It cost $1300.00 for a 3 month supply.

Upon reading it, I thought to myself that if I ever faced an illness where I could not afford the medicine and the insurance would refuse it, I would just let go and do the best I could with whatever time I had left. The same is for other things like transplants and extraordinary measures. If it meant a respirator for the rest of my life, I would not want that.

I can see that life on those terms would not work for me. I have a power of attorney for life issues if I am unable to speak for myself. It is noted to not resuscitate in case of a hopeless problem like cancer. So, I suppose in the long run, quality of life does matter a lot.
 
And what about you who most clearly inferred that my life is miserable? Yes, I suffer from mental afflictions but to call my life miserable is a big insult, and nothing can be further from the truth!
I apologize if I caused you pain by my comments. I did not mean to infer that your life is miserable; the comment I think you are referring to was an off-hand remark about the nature of the thread, not meant to describe your life. I thought we had a friendly online relationship and am sorry for my remarks.
 
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