death – Page 24 – Harmonia Philosophica

Brain “dead” and the Industry of Transplants…

Brain dead is not necessarily… “dead”!

The fact is that the criteria for “death” based on “the death of the brain” were invented by a committee at Harvard (hence the “Harvard Criteria”, based on 0 experiments by the way) the members of which had relations to organ transplantation. And today these criteria are used to support a multi-billion dollar industry on the “pretty dead” donors bodies which can still feel, urinate, have fever, heal wounds, fight infections or to carry (a very complex process which is conducted by living organisms) and deliver babies (1, 2)…

People are characterized as brain dead based on a very specific set of criteria, among which is the activity of the brain stem. But these criteria do not look out for activity in other (higher) brain regions. And these criteria do not take into account the fact that these “pretty dead” (an interesting phrase quoted from a scientist) people have all those abovementioned functions which are closely related to LIVING individuals!

Anesthesiologists (see Gail A. Van Norman and the paper “What Anesthesiologists Should Know About What Neurologists Should Know About Declaring Brain Death” for example) report cases where brain death was declared despite the fact that the patient was responsive. And it is very interesting (and frightening and horrible altogether) that anesthesiologists, based on their findings, have started using anesthesia during organ harvesting from brain dead patients due to strong indications that these people actually FEEL PAIN which the harvest (what a word!) takes place!!! (and actually dies because someone… opens him and takes his organs) (3, 4)

As Van Norman says, no living patients should be sacrificed to benefit others.

Medicine has for a long time now been traveling down the road of Money. And this is one of the worst examples of this practice.

Let us not fall into the trap of Medicine which wants to be a Religion. Everyone must be judged. And doctors are not Gods. They cannot decide who is “dead” and who is not based on their own personal criteria.

Luminous beings are we, not this crude matter!

My stroke of Insight: Connecting to the One!

An awesome talk by a neurologist who had a stroke. Look at it here.

Random thoughts…

Left brain: The “I”. Serial processor Leans – Thinks linearly and methodically. It is about the past and the future. Take the collage of the present moment and think about details, categorize, associate the past, project into the future. It thinks in language. It is the one which says “I am”.

Right brain: The “We” inside our brain. Parallel processor – Interprets this present moment. Kinesthetically learns through the movements. It connects all people together as One.

They communicate through Corpus callosum (300M fibres).

The critical moment.

Having a stroke. Lose the left hemsphere. Like an esoterical experience. Like watching your self from somewhere outside your body.

Could not define the boudaries of the body. Could actually hear the body talk. (now you must walk) Could just detect energy. Silence. Magnificence of the energy inside me. Felt enormous and expansive. It was beautiful there.

What more evidence do you need to believe to change Paradigm?

Then the left hemisphere went back “online”. Beauty from the One was lost. You feel bad. Cannot feel your self. Cannot connect to your self. You cannot squezze the enormousness of your self in that small body the doctors “resqued”. Sadness.

We are the lifeforce power of the Universe. We can choose who we want to be! Select the “We” you have inside your “I”.

Living together, dying together, being happy!

A British couple’s round-the-world cycling odyssey ended in tragedy when both of them were killed in a road accident in Thailand.

Peter Root and Mary Thompson, who had been chronicling their journey in a blog, died Wednesday when they were hit by a pickup truck in a province east of Bangkok, Thai police said Monday.

The couple, both 34 and from Guernsey in the Channel Islands, left Britain in July 2011 and had cycled through Europe, the Middle East, Central Asia and China. The trip was a once-in-a-lifetime experience for the couple, who met in art school and spent six years saving money and planning their journey. (1)

This reminds me of the story of Diagoras of Rhodes (Διαγόρας ὁ Ῥόδιος)…

His three sons were Olympic champions. The oldest son, Damagetos, won the pankration in 452 and 448 BC. Akousílaos, the second son, won the boxing in 448 BC. The two celebrated their victory by carrying their father around the stadion on their shoulders, cheered loudly by the spectators. This was considered the peak of happiness that a human being could experience, achieving great glory and yet having this glory matched or even surpassed by one’s own children. Legend has it that during Diagoras’ triumphant ovation on the shoulders of his sons, a spectator shouted:

Κάτθανε, Διαγόρα, οὐ καὶ ἐς Ὅλυμπον ἀναβήσῃ
Die, Diagoras, for Olympus you will not ascend

the meaning being that he has reached the highest honor possible for a man. Indeed Diagoras died on the spot, and was since considered the very happiest mortal that ever lived. (2)

I don’t know about you, but dying with the person you love while doing what you always dreamed of doing, sounds IDEAL to me!!! I don’t know if I will go to “Olympus” or Paradise any time soon… But I will try to live well and die well at least. And if I am lucky, that mystic process called death may take a snapshot of my happiness to put it in the Universe’s wall for ever…

One last spaghetti…

He had just come back from the funeral. His mother had just died. She was his most beloved person. She had taken care of him for so many years, raised him, she… his eyes wet, started crying again. From a small child he had been pondering on the possibility (it was just a… possibility back then) of his parents dying. And whenever he thought about it, his mother always came and reassured him that everything will be OK… But today she wasn’t there. She would not be there anymore. Not now. Not ever again. And that “Never” really made his heart ache. It was that sense of security that he missed the most. A person who loved him so much that would do anything just to make him feel better. He felt good around her. Now he felt void.

With heavy feet he opened the door. Entered the lounge, then went slowly into the kitchen. He hadn’t eaten since the previous day. Since he heard the bad news… He thought eating was an insult to his mother. He could not put anything into his mouth after her death. But now biology came to overcome his will. He had to eat something. Mechanically and unwillingly he opened the fridge trying to find something editable. He opened the door and saw a plate of spaghetti. Tears started pouring from his eyes. Tears he couldn’t stop. It was the food his mother made for him yesterday just before she died. Ready as he liked it. He couldn’t even see the plate with his blurred eyes. Took it. Placed it on the table. Started eating it. Slowly. Each time he ate, he remembered of his mother preparing it. He cried even more. Every bite brought more sadness to his heart. The sauce. As he preferred it. With a lot of vinegar as he liked it. Another bite. And another. He kept on crying while finishing his food. She had even put extra chesses as she only knew he liked it. And another bite. The food was getting less and less. The last meal from his mother. He ate it but at the same time wanted to leave it as it is. It was the last thing he had from her. Another bite. Every time he felt so pleased from the excellent food, he also remembered of who prepared it and the pleasure went away instantly. Tears again. Mechanically he ate it all. When he was a kid, he would always ask for more. And she would – with all her love – give him more. Smiling.

He fell sleepy. Slowly he bent over the table and laid his head on it. His eyes closed and he dreamed of the only thing that would make his soul pleased. Another plate of spaghetti with cheese… And in his sleep, just for a fleeting moment, he smiled…

Spiros Kakos

02/2013 – Athens, Greece

The King, the parking lot, life, death…

From being a King, to being a skeleton under a parking lot. [1]
Life is short. Death is eternal.
A bad king is dead. A good man is dead.
His bad acts still “exist”. His kindness still “is”.

Live a good Life.

Because what “Is”, never seizes to Be.
What we do in life, echoes in eternity.
Death is short, Life is eternal.