There is someone you say you love dearly. You tell that person, “You are my life!” That person passes away; within a few hours, you are found having your meals. You are in grief—the body is not in grief, the brain is not in grief. The brain is telling the body, “I need my food, I need my glucose, I need my nutrients.” So, in the middle of that grief, you will go and have food. You are in grief, the body is not.
Is the body ever in grief? Does the body ever understand anything sublime? All that the brain knows is its own survival and continuation. The dearest one is lying dead in front of you, and the brain is saying, “Some food, please?” Does that not happen? Maybe not immediately but after a few hours—how long will you stay hungry? The brain does its own thing. The brain needs food. Doesn’t matter if even an avatar has died in front of you.
