Meaning and Motivation of my Cemetery
Monument
First
some important preliminaries:
(1) I am presently very much alive, and have no notice that a change is imminent.
(2) This monument is [as has been my life] shared with my wife, and while we are contentedly married and agree on its unique feature, we are unique individuals; from this point on, I speak only for myself.
As a child on vacations to my mother’s “Granite State” New Hampshire home, I was intrigued by sometimes odd or enigmatic, barely legible epitaphs on (century-plus) old, weathered cemetery monuments. Who were these singular, vanished scribes? What was their meaning?
Later as an adolescent (maybe
14?) at Garrett’s public library, I discovered something even more enigmatic,
intriguing, and profound: an epigraph in a book, the discovery of which ultimately
changed my life:
He
who knows does not speak. He who speaks does not know. (Lao-Tzu)
While I could not fathom its meaning at the
time, I never forgot its mystery, which ultimately guided me toward Taoism and
Buddhism, and which I have embraced for ten years now, though tempered somewhat
by my own existential perspective.
It’s
easy, really. Like everything, your answer depends on your perspective; your point
of view. Just choose a beginning point, and start reading:
Where
now?
Here
now.
Now
here.
Nowhere.
What
could be more apropos? Can anyone say more in this regard, using just seven
letters?
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Minus the H the first words revealed to me WERE ONE. I love the epitaphs and write many down that move my soul. Each cemetery is a library that holds literally hundreds of untold stories.
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