Death

Death became a friend when I was fairly young and it is interesting to watch as our relationship changes. First, my grandfather died and this sent me reeling for years as I looked at how I lived my life and I wanted to change things based on the fact that anyone could die suddenly, including myself.

I spent many years telling people how I felt about them and making sure that I had no loose ends. I wrote the letters and made the calls that I wanted to make. I made peace. I let go. I didn't take things for granted.

Then my grandma died and it was sad, but I was able to work with that experience to look at how others reacted to death. I remember seeing the preacher smile. He didn't seem sad at all. That seemed odd for a second but then quickly seemed quite nice. It made sense based on what his religion said.

After many years I finally approached The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying, one that I had seen for many many years.... and I felt compelled to be closer to those that were dying.

Then workshops that dealt with grief and loss. And I sobbed and felt cracked open. My walls fell and I was vulnerable to the world and loved everyone.

Now, I read about death and it is calmer. It is no longer an emotional experience. It is no longer something that makes me run to complete tasks left undone.

I lie in savasana and I, however briefly, am willing to let go of this personality, this ego, this body, to connect to something bigger than myself.

And I know that death does not have to be the only motivation to let go and surrender, but it is such a sweet one.