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| Maia's ashes. |
The body goes cold and lifeless when its soul leaves. Stephen Levine describes death as "the shaking loose of the body." It's the mysterious soul that animates the body, gives it life and vibrancy. Without the soul, the body is as an empty vase from which all the flowers have been plucked and the water poured out.
But it's not necessarily death itself that is unsettling or even disturbing. It's all the fallout that comes after death. And I'm clear that aside from my emotional state of grief around losing my beloved companion Maia, my mind is the instigator of any suffering over it that I'm experiencing.
I hit the wall of anger yesterday. After feeling fairly numb for two weeks, yesterday I got mad. I awoke from an early morning dream about Maia. She'd been resurrected from death by a dear friend who brought her to me with joy in his heart. Maia came trotting over to me, bright-eyed and tail-wagging.
I was stunned! I squatted down to hug and love on her, happy to feel her touch again yet deeply aware that something was wrong: This is wrong; she's not supposed to be here. I'll have to go through all of this again; I don't want to go through this again! There was an interesting mix of emotions at her return: I was so happy to see her yet so confused by it too; it wasn't meant to be and some part of me knew that.
In the dream, it was moments before Maia coughed a couple of times (just as she'd done in this reality), took her few last breaths and died...again. You can't cheat death.
Now I have to do this all over again! The thought of restarting my grief was annoying and made me mad. The anger I felt was not at my dear friend for resurrecting my beloved dog; it was at myself for all the things I felt guilty for in relation to my dog: for forgetting to salt her food that morning; for thinking I should wait a few hours to give her a treat with salt on it instead of giving it to her immediately; for banning her from my home office space as I worked all day; for the way she laid herself against the outside of my office door, waiting sweetly, silently, patiently for me to come out; for not doing more research on her condition and how we were handling it; for not letting her eat whatever she wanted; for being gone with busyness so much of the time and leaving her behind at home... These things tear at my heart now.
And I know I cannot change them. To suffer over them is pointless, really, in the biggest sense of things. And yet I suffer; I'm not yet able to hold all of my human experiences within the biggest container possible. I'm allowing myself that; it's part of my growing and grieving process - the untangling of all my human emotions around our relationship and her death: Could I have done more? Should I have done more? Why didn't I (fill in the blank)? I wish I hadn't (fill in the blank)...
If I could rewind our time together, what would I do differently? I ask myself this question over and over again, and yet the answer is always the same: Nothing. It wouldn't matter; you can't cheat death.
If I could bring my beloved back, would I? I ask myself this question, too, and the answer is always the same: No, I wouldn't; you can't cheat death.
At some point in our relationships, we say goodbye. This is inevitable. Death touches all things ultimately. Bringing back the dead doesn't change death; it just delays it. You can't cheat death. Death happens how and when it happens because it does. We can't change it, avoid it or control it. We can't even really completely understand it but we don't have to. All we need to know is that death happens.
And as we hold this reality close in our hearts, life deepens into something more precious than anything else. Love takes the lead. We open... and in our opening, death becomes our ally rather than our enemy. How? How is death our ally? Death (of something) is the only way to clear space for what's next. Without death, our lives and our Beings would be bursting open with old stuff that is no longer serving us to the fullest. And that's what I believe we all grow toward: our fullest be-ing. This is the greatest expression of the divine moving through us that we can offer: our fullest be-ing, which to me means living from a deep sense of love...
Death brings the ultimate transformation. Ultimately, it is the gateway to return to pure essence. Not every single death we experience (death of people, pets, ideas, dreams, thoughts, etc.) offers a return to our pure essence; I believe this is reserved for our physical death. But every death offers us the opportunity to take a tiny step toward connecting even more deeply with our pure essence... the vibration of Love.
We can fear death, hate death or love death but ultimately, we have death. Can I embrace even death with love in my heart? I'm still learning that yes I can, but I must honor my humanity and allow myself to grieve the letting go of my beloveds, too. It's a fine balance between being Human and being an expression of the Divine. By honoring my very human feelings - my grief - I clear the way for love to re-enter my wounded heart and refill it with light. The other option is to close, which doesn't appeal to me. In opening, I step even closer to what I believe is all of our divine essence - that of pure love.
So I grieve, and heal, and grow, and open in the face of death, which is ultimately all about love...
Thank-you for your many gifts of words.
ReplyDeleteOne of the more memorable things I have heard from a friend was "Ain't none of us getting out of here alive." I was stunned at the time and pondered it for days. It was the truth.
For me, this is the essence of the concept of using death as an advisor - knowing that it is always close at hand and can take me at any time, decisions become easier, the path clearer, the past unimportant. If today is my last, do I spend it regretting what I did the day before, or the day before that? Do I spend it wondering what could have been had I made other decisions? No -- Death shows me that this is a waste of my energy, that all that matters is what I do right now. In this moment. The only time that exists. Death teaches me that these things that I believe exist, like fear, exist only in my mind, and that if I give them no attention they take none of mine. If I am to die today, what emotion would I express? Fear? Hatred? Contempt? Regret? No. Only love. There is no room for anything else. The fact that I might have more or less time than today does not make this any less true.
In short, death teaches me to love. Now.
Many thanks for underscoring this Ceci.
Death has been in my world lately. Two different grandmothers have passed within a few weeks of each other. Much grieving in the family, much sadness, much feeling that something has been lost. And I am reminded of this blog and the discussion of death.
ReplyDeleteIn noticing this, decided to do what I will call "chair ceremony" with death. A form of energy work. Got to see death, and to know death. Am very surprised by what was seen. My view of death, as the "end" of something, as a reminder to live "now" because there is limited time and death is always stalking me, was a limited and fear-based view. Fear of missing out. Fear of not doing something important. Fear of loss.
Now a greater view is seen - what I call my "death" is the part of me that is not here, in this place. When death is here, it is me. When I am there, I am death. We are one; two sides of the same mirror. When this is clearly seen, death teaches me to be ALIVE. Not because I fear dying or missing out, but because I AM HERE, NOW. Knowing who I have been before I came to this place, and will be again when I leave, teaches me appreciation for who I am NOW. He asks me how I can fear him, as a part of me - he shows me his hand and asks me how I can fear my own hand, since it as a part of me. Can't argue with his logic.
After the energy work with death, my mind is clear, my heart open, my senses sharp. I feel ALIVE. To me, this is an amazing revelation to know that death and I are the same, and to have no fear. Wow.
Thank you Eagles Vision for your beautiful comments; they are relevant and poignant for us all. This is my favorite part: "When I am there, I am death. We are one; two sides of the same mirror." ... YES!!
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