Do you realise?

Do you realize
That you have the most beautiful face?
Do you realize
We're floating in space?
Do you realize
That happiness makes you cry?
Do you realize
That everyone you know someday will die?

And instead of saying all of your goodbyes
Let them know you realize that life goes fast
It's hard to make the good things last
You realize the sun doesn't go down
It's just an illusion caused by the world spinning round

Do you realize?
(Oh, oh, oh)
Do you realize
That everyone you know someday will die?

And instead of saying all of your goodbyes
Let them know you realize that life goes fast
It's hard to make the good things last
You realize the sun doesn't go down
It's just an illusion caused by the world spinning round

Do you realize
That you have the most beautiful face?
Do you realize?

Just as a point moving along a circle never reaches the end, neither do we. The sun going down is not an entry into a world of darkness, but part of the cycle. I find that the word "realize" here takes on multiple meanings. "Do you realise" can be understood as "do you perceive" or "do you notice," but it can also be seen, in my view, as "do you make happen," "do you turn real."

This is a song that has always had a special meaning to me, even if there is no particular association to a person or an event. It just speaks to me on a very deep level. It's hard to make the good things last: we cannot stop the sun from disappearing under the horizon, just as we cannot stop a loved one from dying. It is all just an illusion: an impression we get from the natural cycle of the Earth. When one dies, he does not disappear, but merely moves on to the other side of the coin that is this existence of ours, in terms of the life/death cycle.

Realising that everyone you know someday will die should be a cheerful thought. Obviously it is much harder to actually REALISE this concept, but therein lies the beauty of it. It is hard to let things die, but we must go on and see the beauty in it. This brings Japan to mind. The Japanese have a much healthier relationship with death than we Westerners. In Japan, a cemetery is a pleasant environment, full of beautiful cherry trees and charming brick paths under the shade. It is a place for picnics and romantic walks. It is not ghastly or creepy, for death is simply just a part of life, one that we must deal with sooner or later; and the more we see death for what it really is, the more we come to appreciate it.

This is all reflected in the Death card in tarot. Many mistakenly suppose it to be a terribly negative card, but it is not. It is the great unknown, the beautiful unknown. Granted, beauty is not what comes to mind when one contemplates the figure on the horse, but look rather at the flag it bears. Why else should a skeleton carry a banner depicting a blossoming flower? Out of death comes rebirth.

In the same way, one must not see the dead person underneath the horse as sad. This only shows us that once we die, our material possessions do not go with us. They are not a part of our life/death cycle. It is only our memories, our thoughts, our feelings that travel along with us. And continually do we travel. The boat in the background is merely in the beginning of its journey. Death has arrived, but it is simply a part of the cycle (notice the three people of different ages).

And what do we see in the horizon? The sun rising.

Dealing with death is always going to bring pain and suffering, that is inevitable. But it is also inevitable that a rebirth will follow. We must learn to deal with these pains and to accept them as part of the endless cycle.

Notice the Sun rising in the background here as well.

The sign most closely connected with the Death tarot card is obviously Scorpio. Scorpio is probably the most dualistic sign of the Zodiac, in my conception. Sure, we have Pisces and obviously Gemini, but Pisces is more about coming full circle, and Gemini is more about the realisation of other. There is also Libra, but Libra weighs, it does imply a dualism but rather a synthesis. Scorpio, however, is the extremes, the two opposing sides of the same coin.

Scorpio is constantly shifting between its two incarnations, the eagle and the snake. The snake crawls along the ground, seeing only what is directly in front of it, feeling only what is below. It is near-sighted, and comes from the earthy emanations of Virgo. The eagle, on the other hard, is far-sighted. It soars high, feels the wind under its belly, sees everything around it. However it does not distinguish detail. Here we are moving to the soaring heights of Sagittarius. In fact, Scorpio is characterised by this extreme dualism. It is not about achieving a synthesis, it is not about contemplating the other. It is about visiting the two extremes, being the snake, dying, and becoming the eagle, and on and on.

And this is the life and death cycle. This is transformation. We are forever shifting from one extreme to the other (at different speeds, different rates, of course), so it is only right to embrace this cycle of transformation and see the death of the snake as the birth of the eagle, and vice-versa.

Another way of seeing this is the mythical story of Perseus. Here we have Medusa, the scary gorgon with its emanations of death and head full of snakes. However, when Perseus slays it (that is, when death arrives), the Pegasus, with its eagle wings, bursts forth from Medusa, and Perseus flies high.

Death is not only normal, it is necessary. It is not easy to embrace this Scorpionic energy...but then, if it were easy, why would we be here?

p.s.: see how the song is 3:33 long - I will comment more on this number in the future.