Quick update to yesterday’s post about stemming the number of attempts on my admin account for this site — it seems to have worked, most of the bots are falling for the modified author slug.

Of course, it would probably help if I created a modified theme that didn’t have the author link in the first place. But this’ll do for now. (Also, my bad for using the one account for this site, but in fairness I’m probably not alone in that regard.

I like how Leo Babauta expresses this concept. While I’m not a Buddhist, it resonates with me because this is how I’ve chosen to commemorate my late father — by remember what he did, and carrying on some of his traditions.

Death isn’t the end.

I don’t believe in an afterlife, not in the traditional religious sense of heaven or hell. But I do believe that what we think of as death is just a continuation of an ongoing process.

Let’s think of an apple: it is formed from water from the apple tree’s surroundings, sugar and other materials the tree gathers from the ground and air and sunlight … so before the apple was an “apple,” it was the world around it. The world came together to make an apple — it’s not like it just appeared from nowhere. The apple grows and continually changes, and then falls and becomes the earth again. There was never a start or end to the process, it was just continually ongoing.

Everything is like this: part of an ongoing process, without a real beginning or end. People included. In fact, what we think of as a person is just a part of the ongoing process of the world.

And when a person dies, they aren’t gone. They become the earth. They grow into apples, and mangos, and breadfruit, and water buffalo (what we call “carabao” in Guam).

That’s just the person’s body. Their personality doesn’t end either — we remember them, and laugh about jokes they made, and retell their stories, and live lives inspired by them. Their legacy becomes a part of us, of our families. A part of all of humanity, just as they were a continuation of the legacy of the people who shaped them.

The loved ones who died are not gone. They are in all of us, in their kids and grandkids. In the culture and society they helped to shape. In the work that they did, the DNA they passed on, the spirit that they instilled.

My loved ones are in me, and I honor them with every act.