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The burning of Notre Dame
As you may have seen on the new, Notre Dame cathedral caught fire and is expected to be a total loss. Most of the wood frame has been destroyed. Even those things that can stand for centuries eventually must go the way of all matter. I'm reminded of the Old Man of the Mountain formation in New Hampshire that collapsed in 2003 after being a draw for centuries. It was even the reverse on the state quarter.
So, as I sit here, thinking about my father and about how his grey matter is going the way of Notre Dame, it doesn't make it any easier to cope, but it does provide a healthy slice of perspective.
watching it crumble reminded me of that icky feeling I had when entering my home to find it burglarized. Makes ya feel like it's not worth having goodies.
Plan is to rebuild the cathedral. That'll be a pretty penny...
It is difficult to navigate one's feelings and emotions when one is grieving the loss of a precious thing in one's life. Any loss is difficult. Today, France grieves with a bruised heart the loss of a work of art.
While watching the roof of the Cathedral in flames and I was trying to navigate my personal feelings and emotions, I said to myself, "Hmm...I need to learn more about the Zen-Buddhist practice known as Sand Mandalas. I need to learn to be free from attachment to things."
I have lived in several countries. I have traveled all over the world. I have stood in awe gazing at the splendour of human beings greatest achievements. Gorgeous mosaics of human history from east to west. From north to south. Man-made monuments created to the glory of the gods. And to the glory of men. Wonderful. Big. Beautifully intricate masterpieces. Created/sculpted/molded/built... But, oftentimes, when I stood in silence and in awe in front of huge monuments/temples/pyramids/cathedrals, etc., my heart always ached, as well... I could see the slave labour that went into many of those creations. The sweat. The tears. The blood-red colour of the oppression. The deafening silence of a pain that was not permitted to be expressed. I could hear the sounds of the whip of an oppressor without compassion. It had left behind scars for history to see, to understand, and to record. For us to remember the man-made wounds of human history.
While looking at the Pillars to the Heavens in flames... I heard a cry in the night.
I was wondering if there was a place on this site to talk about things like this - and I found it.
Today was one of those tough days, just hard all the way around. Most of my day was taken up with doing things for my sister (who has early-onset AD). I don't mind at all, it's just hard watching this disease take its toll.
And then I saw Notre Dame, and it made the bad day worse. I don't even have the words. I remember walking inside the cathedral and being overwhelmed by it, even more so when I climbed to the top and looked out over Paris.
Right now (12:30am on the west coast), they think the main building is saved. Maybe the gargoyles did their job and protected Notre Dame from the worst.