I mentioned in a recent post that I am engaged in an apprenticeship with Death. Some of you indicated some interest in knowing what I’m learning. So here are a few examples of entries in my journal. I claim no exclusive wisdom here! Some of these are obvious, but I like to remind myself sometimes.
Impermanence is built into the world of form. What begins in time will end in time. Life and death are the movement of manifesting and returning as described in the Dao De Jing. It can’t be otherwise in this plane of existence.
Oneness emerges in form as the ten thousand things. Oneness is the space within which form exists. Oneness includes both life and death. Everything that emerges from Oneness exists in relationship. This relationship is love. Love is the all inclusive energy of creation and thus necessarily embraces both life and death.
To live fully, to completely inhabit this human incarnation, I must include everything, which means including death. Not just include it intellectually, but include it with my whole being – welcoming its presence, loving it as intimately as I do life.
Every breath is a cycle of life and death.
I am here to learn, not in my mind but in my soul, to experience death’s reality as part of my being in this human form, to see death’s beauty, to appreciate its mystery, to prepare to meet Death face to face with gratitude when Death comes to take me home.
Death asks us, “What is the most important thing at this moment?” And then advises, “Do that.” (Hint: the answer is always love)
Apprentice yourself to the curve of your own disappearance. ~David White, quoted in The Five Invitations, by Frank Ostaseski
If you have some quotes, poems, thoughts, or books to share, please let me know in the comments.
Hi Galen… what comes to my mind whenever I consider death is the poem by Mary Oliver… “When Death Comes”… and it ends with
“…When it’s over, I want to say all my life
I was a bride married to amazement.
I was the bridegroom, taking the world into my arms.
When it’s over, I don’t want to wonder
if I have made of my life something particular, and real.
I don’t want to find myself sighing and frightened,
or full of argument.
I don’t want to end up simply having visited this world.”
May it be so…
May it be so indeed, Kathy! I love that poem — thank you for sharing it. I have said for myself that I want to leave it all on the field, so to speak. I don’t want to leave one day unloved. (By the way, not sure why your comment didn’t show up until just now. I apologize for the delay.)
Hi Galen,
I’ve been looking at death from an investigative stance (as much as possible, that is!) from the near death experiences of people, which resonates with what you’re already describing. I too want to be ready when it comes, ready for the mystery, largely because I saw fear of death in my father’s eyes when he was really ill. After that, there have been a few experiences of being there in the room when someone is dying or has died, and talking to people/friends about it, so it led to my wanting to know what can help the process for people and for me when the time comes. Being not afraid of dying means you can live more fully in the now, in right way for you and for others.
A couple of books I found useful are:
Raymond Moody’s ‘Life After Life’ and his sequel book, Paranormal: my life in pursuit of the afterlife’. He wrote about this first in 1975, a medical doctor, and still alive today. Lovely man, actually. Interviews on YouTube.
Chris Carter’s ‘Science and the afterlife experience’ and his ‘Science and the near death experience’
plus a couple of Buddhism books on the subject for balance to the science, and the memoir I mentioned last time.
I hope I haven’t gone overboard, but wanted to share. Cheers for now.
I appreciate you sharing your own quest to make peace with the inevitable. I ordered Moody’s book on your recommendation, and I will check out the others. (I have to go back and see what the memoir is.) I’m also reading several Buddhist-oriented books, and books by people who have learned so much by working with people who are dying and their families. I haven’t delved so deeply into the near death experiences, but you’ve got me intrigued, so I’m going to be more attentive to that. Thanks for your comment, Lynne.
Ah, you are covering an angle I forget to mention, yes, care people who work with the dying have much to share too. I’ve read about or watching videos of people speaking about this too. Cheers for now.
We’ve got our own little book club going here!
Veronica Shoffstall’s poem, After A While, resonates with me. Especially, “…with every goodbye, your learn.” And this – I do not believe that sheer suffering teaches. If suffering alone taught, all the world would be wise, since everyone suffers. To suffering must be added mourning, understanding, patience, love, openness & the willingness to remain vulnerable. – Lindberg
I worked as a nurse in a small rural hospital. I never left the room of a patient who had died without passing the nursery where there was a newborn. The circle of life.
This business of death is really about living – something I learned from a founding member of Compassionate Friends, a support group for parents who experienced the death of a child. He also said he asked daily, “Why me?” That question finally transformed into, “Why not me?”
Reconciling with the concept of death, particularly one’s own, is part of Stoicism.
That Lindberg quote is so powerful, Mona. I’m going to look up the poem you mentioned. The question about why me reminds me of the story of the mother whose son died and she went to Buddha to bring him back to life. Buddha told her that if she could bring him a mustard seed from a home that had never known death, he would bring her son back. She frantically went from house to house, but of course discovered that every home had experienced death. She returned to Buddha, buried her child, and became his disciple. Thanks for sharing all this wisdom, Mona.