Are you there Cod? It's me, Michael

The creepy cemetery guy.

In Cod we trust.

That’s how I read it the first time anyway. Then my brain corrects the error when I look more closely at the inscription on the headstone and realise the inner ledge on the G appears to have worn away slightly. It makes more sense that it would be God. That's a lot of faith to be putting into one particular type of fish. And a cod no less. Still, you have to have faith. And why not a cod?

The problem with spending too much time in a cemetery, is that you start thinking and talking about cemeteries a lot. A lot of your anecdotes begin with: 'oh that reminds me of something I saw on a tombstone in the cemetery the other day'. And it's not good to have too many stories about times when you were in a cemetery. You can get away with one of those at a social gathering before people start to feel uncomfortable. Even if they happen to be whimsical and about a cod.

You might try and explain to someone at a BBQ, how you are pet sitting and you have to walk the dog through the cemetery every day because, even though he's a lovely guy, he's also unhinged and can't be trusted in the neighbourhood to not completely lose his shit towards other dogs, and postal carts and sometimes vehicles he thinks are postal carts, but they're not and yet he never seems to learn from his mistakes. You can try and tell people that but it's a risk and maybe it's better just to spend less time in a cemetery.

When you spend a month walking through a cemetery you see all sorts of stuff. One day I see some signs explaining there is a ‘renewal’ going on. I look it up later and learn that this is a thing cemeteries do to make space for new burials. Some do it respectfully and by the book, and some don't do it well and come through with a bulldozer. And they can do all this, because as it turns out, most gravesites are leased and have an expiry date. Twenty five years is the standard apparently.

I know, turns out eternal rest isn't for all eternity. Thought the housing crisis was over? Get up you lazy bones, there's paperwork to be done!

This is one of the bad things about walking around a cemetery - you learn things like this, that the people who run cemeteries are sometimes just developers trying to subdivide to make a bit of extra coin. And all of them are just asking for a damn good haunting.

Later on in a different section I see two plaques on the ground that say 'reserved'. As if it might be a table booking. I wonder for how long? Is it like a restaurant where they'll only hold it for a certain time? Isn't local boy Heath Ledger buried here? I wonder if this whole thing is just like trying to get a booking in an exclusive restaurant, in that you need to be a heavy hitter. A big name. How long will that last though? Does Heath get to keep his spot as long as the Christian Bale Batman franchise stays relevant for long enough? What happens after the 15th Joker reboot?

After you've told this to a number of people at the same BBQ, your friend pulls you aside: ‘Is everything ok? I'm worried that you're spending too much time in cemeteries. Also, you're bumming everyone out about all the Heath Ledger stuff.'

'You see, the thing about cemeteries..' you begin saying, mostly to yourself at this point '..is that being there tends to amplify whatever you’re feeling. Insignificant in a bad way; insignificant in a good way. Life is meaningless; life is meaningful. Or some days it would centre me if I wasn't feeling in a good headspace. And yes you can spend too much time in a cemetery, historically it tends to be for eternity, although the 25 year lease is a real downer. And yes often that centering feeling would fade away later in the day, but it also felt cumulative. A month of microdosing on what's important. And to live in the moment. Be grateful. All these good things, and by the end of it, it felt enormously positive. I could actually feel the weight of it.'

By now you're standing alone except for this one creepy guy who you suspect is really into all the cemetery stuff, but not in a good way. But you're on a roll, so you pull your phone out and show him a photo.

'I took this one day. Have a look at this wonderful bastard. Isn't he magnificent? There are so many trees like this all through the cemetery. Existing in this one place and just being their own glorious selves. Not trying to change the world by building something so big that people will have to remember them. Or trying to get a million followers. Or sometimes innovating for the sake of innovating. Like the other day in the supermarket I saw these plastic squeeze pouches of peanut butter and I thought, who came up with that? Did we need to find a way to use more plastic? I thought glass jars were doing a pretty good job.'

'What's your point?' says the creepy guy, who was hoping for more juicy cemetery stuff and now seems slightly irritated.

'Oh yeah, right. Sorry. Just that trees are amazing because they're trees. Each tree is being the best version of itself and we don't judge trees by all the things they don't do, and so why do we do that to ourselves? And maybe my point is that life is about finding one small thing that lights us up and that we're good at, and we can use that to contribute in the smallest way possible. And it's not that you can't impact on a big scale and have big goals, but maybe the way to do that is to start serving those around you in your own unique way. Just like a tree can only be a tree and that is enough. And imagine if we all did that'.

You think you spot a tear just underneath the creepy guy's eye, but then he catches himself:

'Ever seen anyone doing messed up stuff to graves?'

A month is the sweet spot. If you bail out after a month, then you still have that self-awareness to realise that maybe it's too much. Too much walking around a cemetery and having cemetery thoughts, some good and some bad, but mostly you’re just freaking people out at BBQs. Before you realise that you've sent out three consecutive newsletters that all have references to cemeteries, and this is right at the upper limit before people start to unsubscribe.

And so you reassure everyone that this will be the last time. You go around and tell everyone at the BBQ, you text your friends and family, and you let everyone know who reads your newsletters: no more. No more anecdotes. No more newsletters about it. No more cemeteries. I promise.

With Cod as my witness. No more.

Oh boy. Sorry about all that cemetery stuff. I’m going to have a little break for a bit. Maybe try and find a park or a river to walk next to or something. If you liked this post - but not too much - drop me a comment, subscribe or share this post with a friend. Or you can even drop me a donation. Have a great week!