Birth & Death: One of the only things we share with every living organism is the chance for birth and a time of death. Isn’t it ironic that we’re so heavily trained from birth to mitigate all risk of dying? It’s no surprise that the end of our life is unanimously one of humanity’s biggest fears.
One year ago I met Lynda. A woman whose health was declining rapidly. She was referred through a new Maui friend. I wasn’t licensed here at the time, but Lynda didn’t care. With open arms, she welcomed me into her home, into her life.
She had been suffering for a short time with COPD. A chronic inflammatory disease that causes obstructed airflow from mucous build up in the lungs. Quite literally decreasing her ability to breathe with each passing day. Soon after our first visit together, she was put on hospice.
Most sessions we sat and chatted about life, its meaning, what it is to die, what it is to live. She would share stories about growing up on Maui, raising kids here. Conversations always winding their way back around to philosophical debates on life and spirit and concepts like religion. About our old belief systems and her current belief systems. Paradigms that were, for her, slowly being broken down. Looking back now, mine being dissembled one and the same.
She had developed an incredible ability to listen. Presumable due to the fact that each time she moved, she’d wait minutes to be still and catch her breath. She would say “You talk. Tell me what you’re up to. Tell me something new.”
What a wild way to step into practice, into business on my own. Starting with an experience of something so radically different than anything I’d witnessed. An example my mentor had told us about — the concept of being free of disease and being free of it. The care Lynda was receiving wasn’t preventative, it wasn’t treating her disease. But quite possibly, it was freeing her up in some way. Allowing the final days of her life to be void of fear. Full of peace.
She wasn’t afraid of dying, but feared HOW she was going to go. Nightmares of dying, suffocating, drowning, being stabbed. She was making peace with the reality, but stuck somewhere in the process. The war with reality.
Lynda knew. She knew that everything must die. We step back to allow other things to live. We lay down to allow something else to grow. It’s not unkind or unfair — it is simply the story of creation.
How is this relevant to what is happening less than a year later? Well, among many things this “pandemic” is revealing, it has so obviously uncovered our fear of dying. The measures we’ve taken to keep the narrative of physical safety from an invisible force. An invisible force that has less of a chance of killing us than driving on the Pali.
Is the fear inherent? Is it conditioned? Is the hysteria worth the hype? Are the measures worth the .003% we’re so afraid of losing? Some would consider this heartless, but it bears worth asking. Asking the question of what we’re all so afraid of. What a paradox, right? These times bringing so called “uncertainty,” but truly allowing us to see the only thing about life that is CERTAIN; dying.
But what I’ve realized; fear is the story of the future. The thoughts the mind utilizes to keep itself alive, to keep itself relevant. To keep the ego relevant. Maybe the ego’s biggest fear is to be gone? What would it mean to die to that part of ourselves every day?
What if we begin to live life like Lynda? Like each morning is the reminder the end of our days are near, regardless of the stories playing out around us.
Right now, all I know is that this world isn’t LIVING. What if we made decisions to perpetuate more of LIFE. What if you came to love death? Could we love life with all our heart?