Jun Kemee – Till death brings us together

Peeling our skin off takes us down to the bare bones; once we get there, it doesn’t hurt anymore—it brings us peace. You should feel the change from the past thirteen days: expectations were high, demand was at its maximum, and we were left burnt out. This burnout took our skin off. With it went the masks, the expectations, and the illusions about what is here now and what can be made in the following days. To some, this peace comes by falling back into the illusion. Seeing life as the bare, crude reality it is, is too unpleasant for them; they must shelter themselves in dreams, expectations, and distractions once again.

But maybe for a very few, this peace comes from being able to live from the bones, accepting the times as they are and reality as it is. No need for soft cushioning; comfort comes from knowing where the solidity is, what the facts are, and the bones that hold it all together—no guessing attached. This privilege is given only to those who were not gifted with the burden of forced ease and available solutions. No government to fund you, no parents to invest in your future. For them, the pain of being given less is the sack of rocks they carry on their bare, bony backs. If they choose to drop them, then they are as light and as strong as you can be, with all the possibilities and freedom of the world ahead. For them, anything they choose to build, they must do from nothing—from the bones—without help, without funding, and without even the understanding and approval of others. If they make it, they will be the future’s leaders: the real, solid people, the ancestors of our future generations.

When you have nothing to help and protect you, or very little, you are exposed to all the harshness and cruelty of the dehumanized society currently at play. You are vulnerable and experienced in receiving the effects of war, discrimination, violence, and the lack of sleep that comes from not knowing what you will eat tomorrow. What needs to be fixed in the world is not something you know from statistics or PowerPoint presentations; it is something you have experienced on your own flesh, and this is an advantage. Outside of Western Europe and the Anglosphere—and even there, things begin to change—this is the situation for most people, regardless of how many layers of affordable synthetic stuff they have put on to feel cushioned. In the quest for this cushioning, they bite the hook, line, and sinker included. It would be as easy as them coming together from the bare bones they are in, feeling comfortable with where and who they are, and allowing themselves to join without masks and simply leave the system. Like a stack of oranges at a fruit vendor next to the train tracks, you only need to take one or two from the bottom, and the whole pile comes crumbling down.

It is harsh to say, but what keeps us poor are the very “poor” things we cling to. Every day, we are ready to trade the possibility of a plentiful future—attainable only after going through detachment—in exchange for a guaranteed stipend for the month. We trade the joy of a thriving community for high-speed internet and walkable distances to the store. We want the best of both worlds, but since that is not possible, we end up stuck in this one—a world we deep down wish we were far from: a world of war.

Making peace with what is real and what is possible is as hard as letting go of a mother or a child; it is as hard as letting go of a belief or a way of relating. We still don’t get spirituality; we still think it is faith. It isn’t. Faith is necessary to avoid nihilism; faith is trust in yourself, in infinite potential, and in divine creation and destination. Spirituality and the spiritual realm are entities that exist regardless; they don’t require your faith to be there. It is not about “believing” in them or in God; spirit is there regardless of what you tell yourself. An infantile, sci-fi imaginary reality has been haunting us for centuries. It effectively keeps us from diagnosing the world we inhabit and how we relate to it. We would rather imagine something closer to what we are allowed to accept—something that feels “acceptable”—than cross the veil of sensitivity to feel and see what is actually there.

The Lord of Death, Saint Death, the Lord of the Dead, your death, or simply Death—whatever you want to call it—is really your best friend. We cringe at it because of its nature: it tells the bare truth with no sugarcoating. In the same way, we cringe at the advanced cultures that knew this and practiced it. Starting today and for the next thirteen days, we get an extraordinary opportunity to relate to this part of the cosmos and of ourselves, and to do so from a place of peace and acceptance. This recognition of “His and Her”—as it is always a couple—will allow you to distinguish your childish, emotional imagination from the actual spirit of what lies on the other side: the soothing truth of the immediate destiny ahead of us. What would you rather have: a wonderful story that is never real, or a crude reality that is? Today, you must choose.

When someone dies, we go to great lengths to honor them and ensure they get a proper resting place. In life, we might not have liked them, or we lived far from them, or abandoned them in some way; we acted from pride rather than unconditional love. It is not until they are gone that our true feelings emerge. You can change that any day and harness the power of being alive while others are alive, before it is too late. Being an oracle and a friendly death, I must tell you: it kind of already is. The opportunities to understand what is happening and give in to a transformation—to let go—have most probably flown by you. This is a diagnosis, not a judgment. The opportunity has passed, and now comes the process of stripping the flesh as a result of your choices, until we get to the bare bone of peaceful truth. Peace is coming, but not from abundant wealth; it comes from lost “filling.” Many things must go, must die and disappear, in order for life to continue. And it will. Don’t kid yourself with sci-fi novels; the only thing in the process of extinction is your current comfort—not humanity, not life, not the planet. Just money.

This is no longer an invitation; take a scan of the past readings and you will find those in abundance. Now comes the time to transform that into what it is now: a “see you later.” You have proven too “busy” or “tired” to catch on, to open your wings and fly together. Again, this is not a judgment; I am just telling the story as it is, as your friend. Many have chosen to hold on to the filling even as it disintegrates, not wanting to touch the bones or truly speak with the spirits. Their faith will bring them to their final transformation. They have chosen to vote for and believe in the demons that run their lives as if they were gods—as if they are the only “real” way to solve anything. They have chosen to believe that salvation is coming and miracles are guaranteed. A “beautiful” death is soon coming for them. This death will crush their faith and show them how to be alive—how to live and create beyond choosing check box A or B on a form.

At the end, though, we will all be together. That is what must happen now: things must die. Once they do, we will be able to come back together.