It’s been months since I last wrote here. First there was surgery and a near-fatal infection (way back in 2019), then the epidemic which demanded everyone’s attention. I felt I had little to contribute. Speak only if it improves upon the silence, as Mahatma Gandhi said.
Today I dare step out of the shadows to broach a topic that affects us all equally, one most of us prefer not to talk about: preparing for the end of life. My hunch is that privately, deep down, we do occasionally think about it: in dreams perhaps or when frailty, depression, illness, accidents, or the news of someone’s passing pierces our protective veil.
My intention, guided by a life vow ‘to be of service’, is to gently unpack issues of spirituality and practicality about dying. I pray you’ll join me and, when so moved, share your thoughts and questions in the COMMENTS section below.
“The longer we are together
the larger death grows around us.
How many we know by now
who are dead! We, who were young,
now count the cost of having been.
It was bitter to learn
that we come to death as we come
to love, bitter to face
the just and solving welcome
that death prepares. But that is bitter
only to the ignorant, who pray
it will not happen. […]”
(excerpt from Ripening by Wendell Berry)
Good morning Peter
So good to hear from you. I had feared you had “succumbed” to your fatal illness, glad you are still here on the right side of the grass!
I really look forward to hearing yours and others thoughts on death and dying.
We had a time in our families lives where in the space of three years ten people had died.
As my brother said it got to the point where we didn’t want to answer the phone.
It has always made me think, what does all this dying do to my living?
And the older I get, the more that question becomes more pressing.
Blessings to you, sue.
Whatever the topic, I am happy to see your name and your blog popping up in my email.
And your topic is worthy of reading and consideration.
Please keep posting. And thank you.
So lovely to see your email pop up. I’ve missed your presence. And presents.
xo Oma Brenda
Thank you Peter. The topic is certainly on my mind as I have just updated my Will. The struggle I’m having is adding a codicil which will detail what I want my family to do with me. I live in south Florida where we are surrounded by sick and dying everyday. Our small hospital is a COVID hospital now. Packed with the unvaccinated and unfortunately our hospice house is filled as well. Your meditation practices and words have meant so much to me. I just attended a funeral where I was the only person wearing a mask. I also hated the service, so I’m determined to write up in detail what to do with my ashes. I want a gathering with a grand charcuterie and good wine. This is where I am so far. I’ll find the final words with your help. Many many thanks. I am learning so much and in my everyday moments I’m trying to listen carefully and understand and accept my neighbors, it really is one big deep breath at a time!
As my grandson whirs and buzzes around me, death seems held at bay — but at the same time closer than ever.
Thank you for your gentle reminder.
I find myself clinging to one phrase in the poem: “the just and solving welcome that death prepares.” I hope so.
Welcome back Peter!
Yes, please do, and thank you.
Death Is A Door:
Death is only an old door
Set in a garden wall
On gentle hinges it gives, at dusk
When the thrushes call
Along the lintel are green leaves
Beyond the light lies still;
Very willing and weary feet
Go over that sill
There is nothing to trouble any heart;
Nothing to hurt at all.
Death is only a quiet door.
In an old wall.
(The Best Loved Poems of the American People” Hazel Felleman, 1936)
So lovely to see you in my mail! A treasure to hear from
Loved seeing your post and all my best for you. Alot to think about Peter.