#this is not to say eclecticism or secularism is a bad thing

[aureliaeiter]

A downside of secular/“eclectic” spirituality going mainstream is that a lot of people will tell you that they're spiritual because they believe in karma (usually a version of this concept so far removed from Hinduism) and do practices like charging their crystals or meditating

so you feel comfortable telling them that you believe in Ancient gods (or deities of any religion that isn't wide-spread) and they'll look at you like you've grown a second head

[typewriterdraft]

Story - Phylosophy At Death

Darkness. There was only emptiness around. I looked back, tried to look around, but didn’t see anything. There is absolute silence. There was not a sound. I found myself in the middle of the void.

“It’s like death. Hmm. Am I dead?” It flashed through my mind but I quickly abandoned this thought. “No. Hardly. It’s like some indefinite dream.”

I turned around and saw a wooden door. It was lit by a lantern that stood to the left of the door. And this lantern lit only this door and its threshold. It seemed familiar to me. And with every minute the feel of déjà vu intensified but I still couldn’t understand where I saw this door.

“My dreams brought me in different places,” I think. “And all this places seemed familiar to me, although I had never been there.”

And yet I decided to enter this door. When I went inside, I ended up in a room similar to the lobby. There were several hangers where coats, jackets and hats hung. I took off my coat and hung it on the last free hanger. And I was a little embarrassed that only one hanger was free.

There was also another door in the lobby. I had a feeling that behind this door would be the stalls of the theater or backstage.  But when I opened it, I saw that it was a large cafe with a bar counter to the left of the entrance.

Moreover, this cafe has an interesting interior. The walls have dark green color. The style of the interior was similar to the one that was during the Victorian era. In this cafe there were many racks on which there were albums of many blues and rock bands. And these racks were replaced by bookcases with books of dozens, if not hundreds, of the most famous writers and poets.

There was also a small scene where one music group played jazz. There were many different musical instruments on this scene.

“Probably a variety of music is playing in this cafe,” I thought.

The cafe was full of people. I could not find a free seat. And at that moment the bartender called me.

“Welcome.”

“Hello, thanks,” I said with some uncertainty.

“You are a little surprised.”

“Yes.”

“It’s normal. I guess this is your first time here.”

“Yes,” I examined this cafe and tried to understand why everything here seems familiar to me. “Are there any empty seats here?”

“Yes. There is a free table but it’s far from here.”

“It’s all right.”

I walked among the tables and at the same time looked at those who were sitting at the tables. And these people were very similar to writers or musicians.

“They look like those who have long died,” I think. It can’t really be them.

When I got to that table, which was in the corner of the cafe, the group already stopped playing. However, this seat was good enough and from here I could see the whole room and all the people.  Of course, except for those who were sitting with their backs to you.

A man of about sixty was sitting at this table. And he smiled when I approached him.

“Hello,” I said.

“Oh, hello,” He said with good-natured smile. “Now there will be someone to talk to.”

“Have you been sitting here for a long time?”

“Enough to get bored. Would you like a drink?

“Well, not now.”

“I get it. Do you like this place?”

“I am only a few minutes here.”

“Is time so important?”

“Just a little,” I was confused by this question. “But I note that there is a good atmosphere.”

“In what sense?” He asked a question with a clear desire to know my answer.

“It has a beautiful decoration style, good music, a fairly large library. This is not a cafe, but rather a real gentleman's club.”

“It's good. Glad that you like.”

“Do people often play here?” I asked.

“Often enough. Now is the break, they should start soon.”

At that moment, a man stepped on the stage and began to play the guitar. After a short introduction, he began to sing.

“My favorite song,” The old man said.

“Really good. But I have a feeling that I already heard this song.”

“Definitely heard. This is Johnny Cash.”

“If this is a joke, then it is really bad.”

“And I'm not joking.”

At this moment, I looked at the musician and peered at him for a long time.

“But how? He died more than ten years ago.”

“Oh my boy, in this place no one ever dies.”

“What do you mean?”

“Look around.”

I looked around and saw all the musicians and writers whose work I like. They sat around and talked. I saw Hemingway and Remarque, Dickens and Dostoevsky, Zevon and Lennon, Bowie and Cobain.

I saw people who died long time ago, but they all sat close to me.  I was very surprised to see them.

“And are they really?”

“ Yes. These people are really them.”

“It’s even a little strange to be here. I stand where I like everything, and I see people whom I would like to see. I never thought that dreams can look so real and seem to transfer to places where you want to be the most,” I think.

“And there are absolutely all writers and musicians here?” I asked with some happiness.

“Yes.”

“And I can hear Pink Floyd songs?”

“Yes but only on records.”

“That is, they are not here?”

“Not yet.”

“It's a pity. But vinyl is still better than discs.”

“Do you like vinyl so much?” He asked.

“Yes. I think this is the best carrier of music.”

“Yes. I believe that this is the best carrier of music.”

“I can’t agree. If return to the theme of the style of this cafe, what architecture do you like?”

“Still, style and architecture are connected on the one hand very strongly and at the same time very weakly.” I said.

“But anyway.”

“The architecture of London, St. Petersburg and perhaps Moscow. This, if I am not mistaken, is classicism and modern.”

“And also eclecticism.”

“I understand quite a bit in architecture. Perhaps I don’t understand anything at all.”

“Understanding this is easy enough.”

“ But in any case, it will take me a lot of time to understand at least a little.

“ Don’t worry, I’m not forcing you. Just having a secular conversation.”

“ Sorry, but I can't stand secular conversation.”

“Why?”

“Secular conversation is, in most cases, a conversation of several people, where one person starts a conversation on a topic in which he understands a lot but doesn’t know that the others in this understand very little. But because of respect and etiquette, they do not interrupt him. Therefore, the conversation turns into a monologue, where the majority pretends to admire his knowledge. Or it may be topics that exhaust themselves after ten minutes of conversation. In both cases, this is a meaningless conversation.

“But what about the minority? That in the first case.”

“ They really admire his knowledge.”

“ But it turns out that many topics for conversation simply disappear.”

“ This is even good. Instead of short and narrowly focused topics, it is better to talk about things that are vast and long. However, there are few such things.”

“But there are many things that can be discussed for a long time: philosophy, love, the dichotomy of good and evil.”

“Isn't a dichotomy a part of philosophy?”

“It appears, but it is so vast that it can be deduced into a separate type of philosophy.”

“Then the same can be said about any part of philosophy.” He said.”

 “Yes,” He said after a moment of thought. “You are probably right. Then let's talk about love. What do you think of this?”

“I think that a person cannot love. Instead of love, a person has a very, very strong sympathy. Because love is something eternal, incomprehensible and incommensurably deep.”

“And it seems to me that this is the state when you are ready to give everything to another person. All that you have. Whole self.”

“ But if I can just do it this way? If I have such a state of mind,” I asked this question because I really wanted to hear the answer.

“No you can’t,” He said. “There will always be a person in life whom you want to give more than to everyone else. You will want to give more than you have.”

 “Have you ever loved?” He asked after a brief silence.

“Yes.”

“ And how is that?”

“It really hurts.”

“Then it really was love.”

“Why do you think so?

“Because you can’t truly love without knowing the other side of love. Although according to your words it turns out that you are contradicting yourself.”

“But is not man a creature that goes against his convictions all the time?”

“Definitely that.

“Please, let's change the topic of conversation.”

“It's so...”

“Hard. Yes.”

“As you please.”

I interrupted him because I clearly remembered these feelings. I will not lie if I say that I know everything about this feeling. And this bitterness.

“How many friends did you have?” He asked after a brief silence.

“Watching someone to be considered friends. If you mean that people can be divided into mate and friends.”

“Then how many mates did you have?”

“A lot of. Almost every person with whom I talked for a long time is a mate of mine.”

“And how many friends did you have?”

“ About fifteen people.”

“ This is enough for a person of your age.”

“ I'm just too sociable.”

“Have you always enjoyed talking with people?

“No.”

“What prompted you to change?”

“ Inconstancy. I was once on a trip for three weeks. By chance, I saw many people there for the first and last time. But I enjoyed talking with them and decided that enjoying the moment and talking is always worth it.”

“It turns out that your life has changed a lot after that.”

“Probably. Some say that I and how a person has changed.”

“It's funny. Have you ever thought that both the expressions “people do not change” and “people change” are true, but strongly contradict each other?

“But people can be divided into two groups: those who are changing, and those who are not.”

“And how will you do this if you don’t see them after a long time and if you didn’t communicate with them?”

“ You just described to me the interpretation of the Schrödinger cat.”

“ But after all, many phenomena of psychology are a cat,” I said.

“ This is just a modern generalization.”

“Why?”

“A thought experiment with a cat was invented in the twentieth century, and philosophy existed in ancient Greece.”

“"It's also a little funny," He said with a slight smile.

“Why?”

“Has it really taken humanity about a couple of thousand years to give a simpler view of philosophy? But also for this to be done by a theoretical physicist, and not a philosopher?”

“C’est la vie.”

““And yet, this is a good place,” I said some time later, after listening to a few songs and putting a record in the break.

“Without a doubt.”

“My friends would have liked it here. And although they listen to completely different music, they also like the classics.”

“But they would hardly have listened to this music forever.”

“Perhaps you are right. Although I would like to invite them here.”

“It is impossible.”

“Why?”

“These are the rules. A person can come to this place only by himself.”

“Is it like dreaming?

“Not really, but the principle is the same.”

“Strange,” I thought. “This is a dream that doesn't look like a dream.” This place looks too real to be. ”

“It’s even a pity that I will leave later.” I said.

“Back to the world?”

“Yes. Back to the world.”

“I'm afraid you won’t succeed.”

“Why?”

“There it was all over for you.”

“In what sense is it over?”

“ How everything ends in life.”

I began to worry after these words. I understood what he was talking about and at the same time not.

“Are you talking about death?”

“Not really.”

“But I'm talking about ... my world.”

“"Yes. There you died. In the physical sense," He said these words with inhuman calm.

“How did I die?”

“How any person dies.”

“But how exactly did I die?”

“This is one of those things that I cannot show.”

I sat and worried. And this excitement was so strong that I could not concentrate on any specific thought.

“And... and is this the end?”

“Yes,” He answered with the same absolute calm.

“But... but after all... it should not... end.”

“However, this is the end.”

“But... but they... Damn, I know it's damn selfish, but... but how are they without me?”

“Your friends and..."

“ Yes...” I knew that he would ask about her now. And he interrupted him because he did not want to hear it from his lips. “They all.”

““Yes...” I knew that he would ask about her now. And he interrupted him because he did not want to hear it from his lips. "They all."

“ How will they live on?”

“ Yes... I know that they will get used... But how?”

“I'll show you.”

“No... no... just not that.”

“Okay.”

I was worried. I was breathing heavily. But what is strange, I did not panic. I was just trying to figure out at what point I ended up here.

“You need to calm down,” said the old man with the same voice, full of calm. “Here. Have a drink.”

I took a glass of whiskey from the table and drank everything in two sips. I don’t even know why, but it became a little easier for me. Then I drank another glass.

“I understand that it's hard to realize,” He said, as if trying to calm me down.

“Damn hard.”

“But to make it easier for you I can do one thing.”

“Which one?”

“I can do what you ask. But it will be only once.”

“And I can ask for anything?”

“Nearly. Everything you want, just not returning to that world.”

“Then... then...”

I did not know what to choose. I can have almost everything I want. But after what I heard a couple of minutes ago, I do not want anything.

“I figured it out,” I said after a long time.

“What do you want?” The old man asked in an interested voice.

“ I... I want to become part of the Space.

“ Space?” He asked with some surprise.

“Yes. I can ask for it, right?” My voice was trembling.

“Of course. Want to be a part of this?” With a small gesture of his hand he pointed up. And I, instead of the ceiling, I saw Space. Huge. Endless. And incredibly beautiful. “But why exactly Space? Why don't you want to stay here?”

“Here... here it’s good... but... Staying here I will know that they are all there: my friends and... they are all there. And it just hurts me from that.”

“But you’ll get used to it, reconcile.

“I know, but I do not want to put up with this. You can’t put up with this. And if I were a bunch of atoms that would be part of this vast Space ... I will be fine.”

“Well. As you wish. But let me clarify what part of the space you want to be?”

“Are there many of them?”

“Countless.”

“Then the way I know him.”

“Understand. Well. Goodbye.”

“Goodbye.”

That was the last thing I heard from him. Everything around me began to fade. I closed my eyes and began to feel as though I were dissolving. I began to stop feeling. I knew this was the end. But that was the way I want. And I felt good. Even strange, but at that moment I felt absolute calm.