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[Jun. 11th, 2007|01:48 am] |
It is strange how a life that begins in a metaphor of "throwness" should in the process of living it, gain meaning, such that the absence or the rupture of this life is marked primarily, with pain and suffering. It is precisely because of life’s "meaningfulness" that we fear to let go of it. Although in the beginning, we must understand something-our life is a contingency. Only the right combination of accidents, whether happy of tragic, has lead me to becoming what I am. Almost unfairly right after our conception, we are thrown to the world to face its joys and horrors, and also, to face the roles we are assigned to. A 17-year old Sergei Grinkov grudgingly took on the 14 year old Ekaterina Gordeeva to be his partner. He couldn’t compete as a singles skater, so he had to be paired up with someone else. Isn’t it that in performing our roles, we often do so as quickly as possible, just to get them over with? For years, this was the case. Sergei had to develop enough upper body strength to make his lifting of his partner seem effortless. Both had to learn how to jump, twist three times in the air, and land perfectly on the ice.
And then something happened which changed this half-hearted attitude. Sergei was supporting Ekaterina in mid-air when he slipped, injuring her seriously. After she had recuperated, his skating wasn’t a needless chore anymore. He now saw himself with a "task" to be the partner to Ekaterina. It was a task only he could do – he was the only person on the ice with her! And it was a task only he could do. So a lift was no longer a mere hoisting of a body up in the air. It was a testament to his commitment to their partnership. He would not let go. He would look after her, before himself. He would die before he failed her. And so after a fairy tale romance and two Olympic gold medals, he finally "failed" her. He died in a heart attack while their new routine was being choreographed.
Troisfontaines says that if we should consider this bodily existence to be our only mode of existence, then death is total annihilation. But if we recognize that it is not so, then that death will not reach the very depth of love, then there might be hope. And so how do you explain this to a 24 year old widow with a one year old child, that was Ekaterina? Even the ice betrayed her. In the technical rehearsal for a tribute to her husband, the spirals and the jumps would not come together. She wasn’t just putting up a show – this wasn’t why the performance was so important to her. It was because she was skating for her husband. She realized when she started performing that she wasn’t really skating for her dead husband. She was skating with him. Whenever she left the ice and turned, it was as if her husband had helped her to it. Her landings were perfect as if Sergei had cushioned her. At this moment, they realized that the separation that their bodies imposed on a more total communion had broken down. They were together as long as they were in each other’s hearts.
This is the reason why death becomes the ultimate test of love. Because at the point of death, we become totally free! Our bodies have given us a means through which communion with another is possible. But the dissatisfaction of this mode of communion is incredible. My appeal to another is sometimes fruitless, I may have idealized the other and reality proves me wrong, and the other sometimes cannot know me as I really am. But at the point of death, should we choose the fulfillment of this relationship with the other, then it can finally be so. All of this is possible through the Absolute thou. He sustains my existence in life – he creates me again and again. He throws me in circumstances where I find myself caught up in. And although I am not always happy here, he gives me companions, through whom my existence is realized. And he is the answer to the dissatisfaction at which I find myself, in relation to theother. At the point of death, he allows me to recreate myself. But then we must ask: If our lives will not fully answer our questions and we hope to find them in death, in communion with the Absolute Thou, would life then not prove to be tragic should we find that the absolute source of all meaning does not exist and that life after death is, after all, void? In our hearts, we knows that this source of meaning exists (although it eludes objective description) and that it is not a creation ex nihilo, because the life after death is always a response to something. I believe that the life after our deaths would be a response to the appeal of the Absolute Thou, to join Him in the communion of the universe, with all others, and with myself.
Life then, prepares us as to how we should answer to this call. A mindless manner of going about the things we have to do will ultimately lead us to choose to be separate from everything that demands something difficult of us. But if we lives our lives as a fulfillment of the task which our duties, physical necessity and even accidents have demanded from us, then we are ready to answer the call of the Absolute Thou. And it is something that we yearn for. No longer is our cry, "What is the meaning of my existence?" but it is already, "Tell me, Lord, what I have to do to help bring about your greater glory!" Much like an artist cannot paint nor can a writer create, unless it is in response to an inner yearning or a search for meaning in the aesthetic sense, we cannot move forward unless we know where to go. Questioning the existence of a "future" no longer becomes appropriate because as soon as a question is raised, it cannot but point towards an answer. To ponder the question endlessly would simply be like the imbecile who stares at the finger pointing to the moon.
Knowing in our hearts the reason before reason can understand its meaning, we look forward to a moment of being absolutely free to answer the Absolute’s call as to my "mission" – a total orientation of myself towards the fulfillment of the eternity. Life is ephemeral. The choices that we make and the oaths we seal are so easily undone by time and chance. Doesn’t this mean then that if would already be almost "evil" to love, knowing that this love would end? Could not the love between Sergei and Ekaterina end on the ice, so that if one should leave, there would be no pain? Our human nature simply tells us no. We live our lives as a response to the Absolute’s call as to the paths that we should take. And we yearn to know his call, evidenced by our search for meaning. Yes, it is better to love than to never have loved at all. Because in love, in the dialectic bond with the other which is not ultimately satisfying, we respond to the appeal of the Absolute Thou, and seek him fervently, earnestly. We want him to lead us, so that at the moment of our "undoing", we might "do" ourselves once more in final harmony with Himself and with all of eternity. |
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