Beyond solar living ... This is, is this(?), death...

To submit to the sublime other, this is death.

Perhaps love,

but not as we know it.

Free from existence, responsibility, stress, tension.

To know joy, if we know anything.

'Nothing can separate us...' Paul more than legalist or misogynist.

Mystic perhaps?

And for this, to let go,

to slide from being with no fear at all,

simply the expectation,

not of the young boy waiting for Christmas, unwrapping a present,

but the anticipation that this will be good.

No-one is good, save the one named 'God',

the divine, the other.

This is that out of being, indescribable ecstasy,

gentle ecstasy beyond emotion or sensation evading all description.

And this is GOOD and this is God and this is death.

Why would we fear such as this?

There is no gate-keeper.

All can go, will go.

All are welcome.

And then our human incapacity 
to accept dissimilarity 
will seem perverse.

We are all out of the ordinary, then, by definition, extraordinary.

Kindest shepherd, Father God, Mother of creation, Christ, Christa;

all lose meaning in the face of the infinite, eternal quality of utterly liberated love.

And this love waits and into it all will fall, softly, gently at the end.

So the cancer brings no fear.

This is all transient.

It will pass.

Pain, sorrow, suffering disperse and are gone.

The mystics have it.

The fire of love consumes all,

all will pass and all will un-become back into infinitude.

On and on...