To say I spend a lot of time in cemeteries is an understatement. I seek them out everywhere I go, I visit them whenever I can; I take deep breaths and lingering looks as I drive past them. For me, the beauty of a cemetery is found in unity: unity between nature and humanity, past and present, loved ones and strangers, living and dead. Cemeteries have always offered me a rare gift—not peace of mind—but the ability to coexist with my mind in peace, the ability to sift through my thoughts instead of pushing them away.
Merriam-Webster has a single definition of the word cemetery. It simply describes it as “a burial ground.” To find any familiar connotations of the word, or descriptions of this burial ground, you’ll have to turn to the definitions of synonyms. Words like "grave," "tomb," and "sepultchure" identify that it is the dead that are buried. "Graveyard," "boneyard," "God's acre," "potter's field," "memorial park," and, a personal favorite: "necropolis,” all outline the perimeters of the land that is used as a burial ground. Furthermore; "vault," "crypt," and "mausoleum" define the individual plots therewithin. While these are all listed as synonyms for "cemetery," I don't find the terms entirely interchangeable.
My life is spent in cemeteries, for that is where I can find unclouded moments where my consciousness is centered and unified. I move from burial ground to burial ground, though not all of them are plots of land. Nighttime is one of my cemeteries, in which thought comes freely after the burial of the events of the day. A realization that comes to me during in-between moments; the burying of one mindset and gaining of new another, is a cemetery as well. As is the act of getting lost in the wind by leaning out of the window of a fast-moving car. That is when I can bury monotony, bury the feeling of being stuck in place.
This newsletter is my way of putting my thoughts to rest, though it is equally a journey of finding the comfort to voice my inner thoughts to begin with. I hope to make sense (but not too much sense) of the ideas that come to me when I am wandering and writing in graveyards, and of those that come to me when I find myself in a different kind of cemetery.