"Our fear of death is all the greater when we have not dared to live...Daring to live means daring to die at each moment. But it also means daring to be born—daring to pass through important stages in life where the person you used to be dies, in order to make room for someone with a new view of the world."
--Arnaud Desjardins
There's this modern idea of "a good death" which I have never understood. Partly because at 42 I had never really experienced death personally.
My childhood dog died while I was away at college, the various fish and hamsters we had growing up never stuck around long enough for me to get really attached, and by the time my grandparents died - all four of them within a few years of each other - I hadn't lived near them in years.
My cat Wilson died today. He was 18 years old and I had to help him "transition."
As I talked to people about Wilson and this decision I kept
hearing "He needs you to help him." "He won't do it on his own," but it
just didn't ring true to me. It felt like a cop out. A rationalization. A
way to get out of doing the hard work of watching someone you love
die (and cleaning up the associated messes that go with it).
But a couple of hours after the fact I am a believer.
Wilson went easily into the deep sleep and took only one last,
shallow breath after receiving the shot. His body was so old and frail, I really believe that he was ready.
As I sat there holding him afterwards, I could see him taking off
into the beyond - the old Wilson once again - leaping and bounding, off
on the hunt. He was so happy and free, it made me feel the same.
As I looked for a quote for today I realized that I don't have a lot of quotes about death. It's something that I have - not avoided exactly - but put on a shelf marked "not applicable to me." But today I realized that is not so.
Yesterday on NPR I heard a story about prolonging human life and the interviewee asserted that humans may one day live to be 125 or more. My reaction was, "no thanks!" I have no desire to live that long. I'd love to make it into my 80's but after that I think I'll be ready to see what comes next.
Wilson was 89-92 in human years, depending on how you calculate, and I think he was more than ready. He went easily into the great beyond, to his next life. It was a good death indeed.
Many thanks to Mary Pittari of A Peaceful Parting who helped Wilson transition and did so with much kindness and compassion.
Showing posts with label Death. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Death. Show all posts
Monday, September 12, 2011
Monday, January 10, 2011
Time is on my side
"I am convinced that there are times in everybody's experience when there is so much to be done, that the only way to do it is to sit down and do nothing."
--Fanny Fern, from The Sun, October 2010
Last Wednesday was my first "normal" day since the holidays. The kids were back in school, I had nothing scheduled, and a full six hours in which to do whatever I pleased.
So what did I do? I read. I surfed. I ate. I bathed.
But underneath it all was my running "to do" list of things not getting done: write (I tried, but nothing was working that day), file, clean, call the washing machine repair man.
As I sat there doing nothing I tried to imagine a day in which all of my "to-dos" were done. Would this be a great day? Or would it be death?
I had to remind myself (once again) that there will never come a day when I am "all done," either with my chores or with my Self.
Even on that day when life decides that I am indeed, "all done," there will be a "to do" list left behind.
I just hope that when that day comes I am ready and that I will find it easy to let go of my "to dos" and just be.
Friday, December 10, 2010
You just never know...
"The days of our lives, for all of us, are numbered. We know that.
And, yes, there are certainly times when we aren't able to muster as
much strength and patience as we would like. It's called being human. But I have found that in the simple act of living with hope, and in the
daily effort to have a positive impact in the world, the days I do
have are made all the more meaningful and precious. And for that I am
grateful."
When I told my husband I was going to use this quote on my blog this week his first response was, "She was mean you know."
"What do you mean she was mean?" I asked.
"Elizabeth was mean to John. She was horrible to everyone on his staff. She was mean-spirited and a first-class [beast]."
I'll admit that it gave me pause. For about thirty seconds.
And then I thought: Who isn't mean? Or hasn't been at one time or another?
Is there a person alive about whom it could not be said: She was mean to her spouse. He was horrible to people who worked for him? She was mean-spirited. He was a first-class [jerk]?
What is the "truth" about Elizabeth and John Edwards? Was she mean to him because he was a philanderer or was he a philanderer because she was mean to him?
The "truth" is, we can never know for sure.
There are two sides - at least - to every story and a multitude of ways to sum up a life. This was how Elizabeth summed up hers and whatever the "truth" behind her life, I find it inspirational. I hope you do too.
Labels:
Death,
Elizabeth Edwards,
Gratitude,
Hope,
Imperfections being Perfect
Friday, November 19, 2010
Dark Days
"Our bodies live off of LIGHT. Now (winter) is not the time to take on big projects. Now is the time to let things die."
I have a confession to make. I have always hated this time of year.
It is dark. It is cold. The holidays are coming.....
Another confession. I hate the holidays. Or at least I did.....
For me, this time of year is very uncomfortable. The darkness makes time, always a precious commodity in my life these days, even scarcer. The weather means I am always cold and I hate being cold. And the holidays....the holidays mean pressure and stress and spending too much money and way too much time trying really hard to make everyone happy while seemingly making no one happy.....
No wonder everyone is depressed.
Are you noticing this too?
Nearly everyone I know is feeling down or sick or depressed. Things are coming up big for people around me right now and many are feeling overwhelmed.
And I am beginning to wonder if that isn't as it should be. As nature intended.
As this quote says, "...now is the time to die." All around us nature is dormant, sleeping, dying, waiting for spring to come when it will once again "spring" to life.
Perhaps it is the same for us humans. Perhaps we are meant to die, along with the flowers and the leaves and the mosquitoes, to that which no longer serves us.
Every year we start fresh with new resolutions, new plans, a clean slate. We acknowledge this and celebrate it with lists and diets and champagne and fireworks. But what about the death that, according to all the laws of nature, must precede this new life?
Do we acknowledge it at all or are we too busy shopping and baking and stressing to fully experience it? Maybe that is why so many people find themselves feeling sad and depressed at this time of year. A part of them, a part of their life, is dying and there is no room, no ritual, to acknowledge and to celebrate this death.
For me this always manifests itself in my body's desire to be lazy, to gain weight, to sleep in, and to do basically nothing. All of my good habits seem to go by the wayside this time of year: I have stopped doing my morning yoga, I am running much less than I did this summer (and more often than not inside on my treadmill), and I feel like I could eat my body weight in carbs and not be satisfied.
I also feel an underlying sadness that I cannot quite understand. While all around me it feels like everyone is excited and happy and looking forward to the holidays I am full of sadness and dread.
But as I talk to people I realize that I am not the only one and that perhaps we are all looking at each other through red and green colored glasses, but not really seeing each other.
We are all dying. To who we used to be, to who we thought we'd become in 2010, to the things that no longer serve who we will be in 2011.
So let's take some time this pre-holiday season to mourn and to grieve for what we are leaving behind before we start to plan and anticipate what will come next.
Here's what I am letting go of as 2010 comes to a close:
1) Shifting relationships. Our relationships with others (and with ourselves for that matter) are always shifting and changing; sometimes this is difficult to accept. I need to let go of the relationship that I would like to have with the people in my life, so as to have the relationship that is meant to be.
2) My ideas about what I "should" be doing. I am going to try and stay in the moment with myself and do what feels right in that moment, regardless of what I have "planned" to do or "would like" to get done.
3) Other people's opinions about my life. Whether stated or implied or presumed (by me!).
4) My tendency to "escape" into books, TV, even my own thoughts, when I get overwhelmed. I am going to try and stay with my feelings as they arise, not replace them with manufactured feelings from someone else or my own crazy mind.
5) The idea that the holidays are going to be "perfect" or that anyone in my family or my life is going to act or behave in a certain way that will make it more enjoyable for me. Everyone is going to show up with their "crap" and it is my job as their friend, co-worker, or family member to lovingly accept them for who they are in that moment (without, of course, letting them impose that on me in a way that is unfair or slimy).
That's a start. What are you letting go of this winter? And how do you feel about it?
(NB. This quote is a repeat from last year - 12/30/09. My plan was never to repeat a quote on this blog, however, this quote just seemed to nail what is going on for a lot of people I know right now so I am making an exception. It may not be the last time. There are a lot of great quotes that I did not comment on the first time that I used them so I may be doing this again. Soon. Stay tuned....)
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
"Our fear of death is all the greater when we have not dared to live...Daring to live means daring to die at each moment. But it also means daring to be born—daring to pass through important stages in life where the person you used to be dies, in order to make room for someone with a new view of the world."
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