I’m not a Rush fan – I know I am the worst form of life. I appreciate the mastery of them, and I get a lot of people love them. My husband, especially. Neil Peart is one of his idols. I just read on here that he is an author too, so I hopped on Amazon and gifted Evan every book he ever wrote.
His body, Ram Dass’ body, so many other incredible beings’ bodies are gone. But, through love, talent, skill, they are immortal. Their music, their words, echo in the ether eternally. We carry them all in our hearts, memories, songs, and words. Death is the other side of the coin that is life. You can’t ask for a head’s only quarter, and you can’t have life without death.
The pain is goodbye, but the truth is there’s no one to say goodbye too. Your closest loved one, or most admired musician – is as close as the quiet mind and open heart. If anything, in the body’s death, the soul becomes free to be everything and anything- unbound from the rules of earth.
It’s painful to lose people; it’s painful to be human. But that pain, the preciousness of loss is what feeds all of us to create a life worth living now, so when death visits, it’s a welcome friend. These experiences mold us to teach us to create our mark here now. Whether it’s writing, painting, singing, dancing, cooking, it doesn’t matter. Each of us are here to learn to live so we can joyfully die, and leave behind the part of us that goes – the body and become the part that goes on, eternal, unchanging, always there.
In the case of someone like Neil Peart – he is not gone. He is a song away. Just like all of us.