I often finish work just before 6pm so that I can settle down on the sofa with a glass of Merlot and a handful of nuts to watch the BBC news. Last Wednesday’s opening story had me in despair before I could put glass to lip or crunch a walnut. Quite rightly, in my opinion, the BBC showed images that for once were truly disturbing. Their report showed pictures of a Turkish police officer carrying the body of a small boy from a beach. The boy, Aylan, his brother and mother had drowned in a desperate attempt to reach a Greek island within the European Community. When I thought about it a little later in the evening, I became alarmed as to my “normal” state of insensitivity. I realized that it had taken such harrowing images to arouse one of the foremost “Natural Principles” within me.
Compassion is that foremost Natural Principle
I say alarmed, as it would appear that in order for events of human suffering in other areas of the world to truly grab my attention these days, ever more shocking input is required from my outer senses. It’s no longer enough to read or hear of hundreds of migrants perishing in the waters of the Mediterranean, or of dozens of refugees suffocating to death in the back of a truck in Austria, or of asylum seekers risking life and limb to scramble over razor wire at the Channel Tunnel entrance, for me to sit up and focus.
Continue reading “Drowning in Asylum Seekers, Refugees, Migrants, and Despair”
Fortunately, for most of us, our desire for life overshadows our desire for death.
In Part One of this Post, we recognized the tragedy of the Germanwings flight that crashed into a French mountainside killing 150 people. Andreas Lubitz, the co-pilot responsible for the crash, was undoubtedly suffering from depression. However, I introduced the notion that for someone to consider suicide when depressed, he or she is psychologically escalating and deepening their thoughts to the extent whereby they enter into an “existential crisis.” Furthermore, I’m suggesting that when in this state of mental crisis, the subject can be consumed by a “natural” desire for death.
It is not understood that before life [when your Essence/Higher/Greater Self is deliberating on entering the physical domain] an individual decides to live. … Each person born desires to be born. He dies when that desire no longer operates.
…The desire for life has been much flaunted, yet human psychology has seldom dealt with the quite active desire for death. In its natural form this is not a morbid, frightened, neurotic, or cowardly attempt to escape life, but a definite, positive, “healthy” acceleration of the desire for survival, in which the individual strongly wants to leave physical life as once the child wanted to leave the parents’ home. (Seth, The Individual and the Nature of Mass Events, p.24.)
[bctt tweet=”From the perspective of Consciousness Itself, your existence does not end with your physical demise.”]
Continue reading “Our Shared Desire for Death – Part 2 of 2.”
The 150 people aboard Germanwings flight 4U9525 sacrificed their lives in order to bring a deeply profound element within our collective psyche to our awareness. It is a psychological prompt that urges us to act on an acute subconscious desire—our “desire for death”—which lurks in the shadows of our much vaunted “desire for life.”
Toward a better understanding of suicide
In the UK, suicide is the biggest killer of men under the age of 50. Male suicides outnumber female suicides by a ratio of nearly 4:1. (78% to 22% in 2013.) The number of men committing suicide in the UK is nearing 5,000 a year—that’s about 13 male suicides every day. Furthermore, this average has been steadily increasing since 2007, in contrast to a significant decrease in female suicides.
Suicide is an everyday phenomenon we seldom examine. We dismissively reason that someone choosing suicide has been subject to a tangled personal dilemma that has little to inform us on how to manage our own life. When a famous person like Robin Williams commits suicide we are less dismissive, but we still don’t look for any deeper meaning that links us to the event. The tendency is to pass off such tragedy as another example of an artistic genius ending their lives in order to end some maniacal obsession with the worthiness of their existence.
We can’t imagine a person’s suicide has anything to tell us about our own Self, because we don’t believe we are all deeply connected to each other.
What are the statistics telling us?
Continue reading “German co-pilot’s suicide points to our shared desire for death (Part 1 of 2)”