november: notice
monthly theme: [death]
Getting it in my head that I was to be an end-of-life doula, I attuned most aspects of my life to death. I analyze all experiences through this lens--new to me, but present in a context beyond time. It seems so morbid and intense to those without the intention to understand, befriend, and ultimately work with death every day, but for me it is a necessity. The way death began to infiltrate every facet of my life worried my dad.
Fearing it to be a new development in my OCD or just general anxieties, he showed concern the only way a parent knows how (if that particular parent could show concern at all). My fears around death still congregate in the heartbeats of my parents. I think death is an abstract until it comes down to losing them. Then it is a giant boulder crushing every fiber of my being.
But my studies continue and I face death’s dark shadow in all aspects of our societal structures and systems as they cannibalize themselves before our eyes. It goes deeper and deeper than I ever could have imagined. As soon as I think there is no more death for me to contemplate, I must grieve the innocence that could lead me to such a falsehood.
For the week of noticing in this month of death, I don’t expect you to go whole-hog and become as seemingly death-obsessed as me, but if you could allow yourself to notice when our culture’s instincts or norms are a result of our terror around annihilation, then I believe you’d be getting something good out of this journey with me.
For instance, one of the most sinister ways in which our country’s death denial and outsourcing rears its ugly head is through the beauty industry. To age is to see our dying in slow motion, we avoid this inherent process of any carbon-based being by spending billions of dollars to conceal it. Like putting lipstick on a pig, we paint our faces so as to never recognize our own corpse.
But of course, we don’t have to notice the macro fears of death if we still deny the personal/micro ways in which we avoid the idea of our own mortality...how did that feel just then? Being confronted by the phrase “our own mortality”? “Your own mortality.” For living and dying is not just some common experience that unites us all, it is an incredibly individualised ordeal. Of course, it doesn’t have to be a source of our further isolation, but rather can become a ground on which to build community--to share ourselves and our stories.
A community--a culture--whose primary bonding requirement is the acceptance of our full humanness; the fact that we are alive so therefore one day we must die as well. This is the conclusion my noticings of death have led me to. Awareness opens our imagination to new problem solving gates. Death-positivity is the one I am choosing to walk through. And to me, it should be the center of anything we do with our limited amount of time on this earth.
It feels as if I’m asking more from you this month. That there are more thresholds which to cross in your psyche in regards to life and death. And there is much more to notice because death can be found within everything that we do while we are alive. Do you notice how this suggestion makes you feel? Can you name the feelings?
In the mortality workshop I attended last year, the first time we met we constructed a “death resume” which entailed listing at least 3 deaths we experienced that construct our ideas of what death is and/or should be. Mine includes the first death I knew of, my Grandpa when I was in 4th grade. Death should be natural, slow, not too dramatic and of course, when you’re old. The second was my Aunt Chrissy, who wasn’t even 45 years old, but she’d had at least 20 years on earth with breast cancer in her body so it wasn’t sudden. But predictability doesn’t subdue tragedy.
The point of such an exercise, as lifted from my workshop notes, was to work through the following questions: What did you learn about your own dying process from the most impactful deaths? What subconscious truths have been filed away? How quickly are we expected to move on from death? What stories were we told to repress or erase? We are more equipped to grieve and to die than we think.
Death cannot have just one definition because the meaning of our existence can be defined in as many ways as it can be experienced; so is true of death. And other people’s lives can (and should) impact us and affect our view of life just as their passing has the potential to do so, as long as we open ourselves up to the grief they inspire.
If a death resume or adding death to your daily thoughts and meditations seems to be too much, then feel free to focus on life in general. Try creating a “living resume” and list people whose ways of life inspire you to live most authentically. This will ultimately bring more awareness to your feelings about why life is so precious and the ways that its fleeting nature can influence your day to day.
Noticing that something inspires an emotional response that you can’t seem to manage at this time is potent knowledge to have. Life might decide to scratch itself into this tender heartspace of yours, but you’ll know that the wound is there, that you are sensitive and have begun to understand why that is. Surfacing your fears of death can feel like canoeing into the middle of a lake, only to realize how exhausted you’ve become. Noticing when you’ve reached your emotional limit within your healing process is vital for the process as a whole.
May we all take this week to notice more of the vitality of life as it exists in the same body as death. May we let the time change and early sunsets guide us through this dark night of the soul and into a deeper understanding of ourselves and our time on this earth. Let us change and age naturally as butterflies evolve, in a trusting harmony with the rhythms of our sentient life.