Soulful Death
I’ve been facilitating a monthly woman’s group for several years. Our inspiration for coming together focuses on the changing landscape of the elder woman. We aspire to keep growing and learning how to have meaningful lives as we age. We are all now in our 70’s.
Settling into the soft, cream-colored couches friendly conversations wind down as we start to delve into our topic for February, meeting death with grace.
Zennie, our host’s eighteen-year-old cat decides to join us. She sits on the floor in the middle of our circle. We watch her wobble trying to hold on to her balance as she raises a paw and wipes it across her weeping eye.
Birgit opens the session with an inspirational reading from Anam Cara: A Book of Celtic Wisdom, by John O’Donohue.
There is a presence who walks the road of life with you. This presence accompanies your every moment. On your own, or with others, it is always there with you. When you were born, it came out of the womb with you. The name of this presence is death. Our physical death is but the completion of a process on which your secret companion has been working since your birth. Though death is the most powerful and ultimate experience in one’s life, our culture goes to great pains to deny its presence.
In Samuel Beckett’s very short play entitled BREATH, first, there is the birth cry, then the little breathing and then the sigh of death. Life ends with the last breath just as it begins with the first.
As Birgit closes the book Zennie jumps onto the couch where I’m sitting. I pet her gray fur feeling her bones beneath my hand. She lingers as Becky begins to lead us in a meditative exercise. The last rays of the day’s sunlight cascade through the windows into the quiet room where only the gentle sounds of our breathing share the space between us. In that shared space I’m suddenly overtaken by a tender love for my dear friends that one day will no longer be.
I pause. I take a sip of water to soothe the burning of emotion in my throat.
“What does meeting death with grace mean to you?” I ask.
All agree that concerns and fears are not about the moment of death but in the not knowing what will come before. How does one meet death with grace while retaining dignity? Will we lose independence needing someone to provide basic care? Will we have pain and suffering? What happens if we develop dementia or Alzheimer’s Disease (AD) and if that is the case, we talk about the legal restrictions for being able to make decisions for our right to die. Click here to find out more about compassion and choices. Compassion & Choices https://compassionandchoices.org/
How do we envision our own death? Someone shares how she had to carry out her mother’ s wishes as she died. She had to limit people visiting her mom even when they wanted to be with her. Will she want the same for herself? Conversation ushers us into the reality that having legal documents in order is part of our planning but there is more to decide and let it be known to our loved ones. Click here to learn more about Five Wishes advance care planning program. https://www.fivewishes.org/
I ask the next question. “What do you think happens after death? Is there an afterlife? “
John O’ Donohue writes, “Sometimes people are very worried about dying. There is no need to be afraid. When the moment of your dying comes, you will be given everything that you need to make that journey in a graceful, and trusting way. Each one of us someday will have to face our own appointment with death. I like to think of his as an encounter with your deepest nature and most hidden self. It is a journey toward a new horizon. The soul is a pilgrim journeying toward endless horizons.”
How can I know my soul?” someone asks. Birgit suggests to take five 5 minutes to just be in silence each day. “Let your body show you. It is not in the mind. It is in your heart,” she adds.
Can one arrive at a peaceful acceptance of death? All agree that one way to make peace with your own death is to live fully each day. Laura, who is in good health at almost 80, knows that she wants to die at the age of 100. Until then for the next 20 years she is adjusting to older age with gratitude and gusto.
Dusk awaits us outside as we wrap up and gather our things. Zennie has long ago left the room to rest in the comfort of her little bed. We venture out into a brisk evening talking and laughing. We hug our good byes holding on to one another longer than usual.
You would know the secret of death. But how shall you find it unless you seek it in the heart of life. The owl whose night-bound eyes are blind unto the day cannot unveil the mystery of light. If you would indeed behold the spirit of death, open your heart wide unto the body of life. For life and death are one, even as the river and the sea are one. For what is it to die but to stand naked in the wind and to melt into the sun. Only when you drink from the river of silence shall you indeed sing. The Prophet, Kahlil Gibran
Intention: Be curious about your death. Ask, how can I spend time while alive opening my heart to the whispers of my soul?