Knowing How to Live, We Know How to Die

Knowing How to Live, We Know How to Die/ Knowing How To Die, We Know How to Live

I think that was Stephen Levine who said that. And it is so true.

Taboo Subject

We don't talk about death much in our culture. And we all know it will happen to us. As we age, more and more people we know die. Some people deny death's reality even up to the last moments.
As the Stephen Levine says about death in Who Dies, “We seldom make direct contact with reality but instead live only in the flat silhouettes that it casts in the mind.” 

Hospice

I volunteer for Hospice, doing friendly visits and caregiver respite. I chose this after my parents died. To me, it seems true that they died the way they lived. Mom went suddenly and unexpectedly. She cared for her mother for years, and would not have wanted to be the one who was helpless and cared for. Years later, my father died very slowly through a long illness, cared for by his new wife and a Hospice team. He was a more passive person, and that seemed appropriate to me that he went that way. And it gave me a chance to get used to the idea, and to say goodbye. It seemed to me that he wasn't even in his body toward the end. When I walked into the room, his presence was light and beautiful and much too large for his body. It was amazing to see and feel. And I am glad that I had that chance. It was sacred.


I am very grateful for the things in my childhood that touched this sacred place before I knew what it was. Or maybe they were beads strung on the thread of who I remembered I was, things that  gave me a touchstone as I encountered what most would call difficulties in their lives. 

Grief and Loss

The time in my life when I had the deepest losses – my mother’s sudden and unexpected death, then the loss of  my home, my job, and my boyfriend, all at two week intervals – there was a place in me that knew everything was OK. There was a stillness where everything was in a deeper perspective than it had been. As dark as everything seemed, I felt something there assuring me that everything was just fine. Recently I saw a quote - sorry I don't know who it was - that fits - Sometimes everything has to fall apart before it can fall together.

 

Practicing the Presence

In my Practitioner studies, we did about a month of study on death and dying, and in my pastoral care work, I feel such a profound respect for life, for both the client and for myself. Everything is raw at such times. For people who are closed, it can be an exceedingly difficult time. For those who are open, or choose to open during the grieving process or the dying process, it is a unique opportunity to draw closer to God, to touch their own Source. 

I was drawn to Practitioner work as a way to practice the Presence for myself, and to invite clients and others who are interested in the unfolding. And for me, death puts everything in a different perspective. It's the deepest and most real way to get there. A short cut so to speak. It cuts through the protective defenses that we may not even know that we have, and can bring us to a place of  expansion beyond anything that I have known before. The raw Truth is there; the immensity of it all. Everything is in a new perspective and reality itself seems altered. I suspect that that is reality, and what we live in day-to-day is our filtered version of it.

Open Heart - Open Mind

Intuitively, I knew from my twenties that the first person I loved and knew who would die would be my mother. And it was. My mother died suddenly and unexpectedly. That was very much like her. She would not have wanted to be a burden to anyone, and she wouldn’t be able to passively receive care. It turns out that she had had a problem with a heart valve for much of her life, and many years before, the doctor said that someday she would need surgery for it. She had some symptoms on a Thursday, went to the doctor on Friday, and was supposed to get the results on Tuesday. The doctor said that he was going to recommend surgery. She died that Tuesday morning when the valve stuck open, so her heart was literally open. She once told me that she didn’t believe in God, so I took comfort in the fact that her last words were “I don’t know”. No matter that it was in response to my father asking, “Should I call 911?” She died with an open mind. 

If you are grieving

If you are grieving, reach out for support - from friends, from Hospice, from your place of spiritual support. In my area, there are two Hospice organizations. We also have Final Passages, a home funeral organization, which can advise on alternative funerals and give practical information on what needs to be done when a loved one dies. Your church may have support available. At the Center for Spiritual Living, the topic is explored monthly in  Full Circle: Conversations about Death and Dying.

 

How About You?

Has the illness or death of a loved one touched you deeply and changed your perspective on life?