Being on hiatus, if not quite yet permanent retirement, I find that I dwell on a higher plane than this world.
Up here, on this higher plane, I'm not worried, bothered, or disturbed by the day to day affairs of the world. This would include all concerns about whether famous people are sick, whether they've died, or what their legacy is. It's not my mission, while on hiatus, to strew flowers in their paths, to lionize them, or really even to care all that much.
On the higher plane, up here, for me it's a matter of taking time off, of being unconcerned about the spinning and shifting of the earth, whether we're speaking globally, as of tectonic plates, or locally, as in the affairs of every celebrity who ever hit it big, then was stricken and perhaps surprised by mortality.
I'm not mentioning names, because up here, on this higher plane, such things are almost meaningless. A higher plane gives you a terrific perspective. I can look down and see everyone scurrying along like rats, or, smaller yet, ants. It's quite a sight! Someone dies, then someone else. I glance down and see it, then I may turn away. Or I glance down and see it, then I look to see the crowds gathered. Then I sit back in a chair and gently tap my fingers together, shaking my head.
The biggest thing I wonder about is how high can I go? Because I'm way up here now. Looking down. If I go higher I don't know what might happen. Someone dies, I might see the powers of the heavens pulling their 3 x 5 card and checking it. For them, I'm imagining, there's no shaking of the head, not even a thought of seeing any of this philosophically. For them it's simply another day on the job. A few rats, ants, and people died. The cards are pulled, they're already forgotten.
But going higher yet -- this is almost as high as a person can possibly go, I'm guessing -- there are things up here that man may not speak. But I believe I can hint around about it. Up here, in the highest place you can possibly go, everyone is remembered. Every ant, rat, and person. Quite a thing, huh?
Yesterday I had an ant on my desk, oblivious to me sitting there. From a higher plane, I observed his ability to run very fast. And I could see ahead to what his likely path and destination would be. Then he was on my computer mouse. Then down and across behind the keyboard. Now over here on the left side. I thought I should probably catch him and release him outside, because what if he is a she, and she's looking for a maternity ward? There was the tiniest little puddle over by my mouse, so possibly her water broke.
It being a nice day out, I felt I could safely catch and release her without any injury to her young. But she was way too fast and small for me. Dodging under papers, around books, wires, other junk, and finally over the back of the desk, where it's too dark and hard to get to. So I let her go.
Perspective. It's very much a function of life. And with a hiatus, I've got it good! I'm way up here. So that whether it's you -- or the latest famous person to experience passing into the heavens -- I'm observing, watching, scouring the countryside for your slightest movement and purpose.