Let us remember the mystery of the ground.
How the dirt has somehow knit itself together into what we think of as ourselves. How we will somehow be undone and released back into it. How our bodies will become again life. First in small bacteria, then worms and insects, then on to sycamores, sparrows, bats, possums, people. How this knitting and unknitting is perhaps the work of some great spirit. How it perhaps is not.
Let us remember we are dust.