The Master Course

Halloween paints a skewed picture of death. I realized this when I was caring for my dying mother, taking her for walks through neighborhoods decorated with tombstones complete with skeletal hands emerging from the ground, bloody skulls, bodiless heads, dangling ghosts, mummies and monsters. At this time of year, haunted houses (and television) feature the fear and horror of death—a reflection of our fear of the unknown and our vast ability to imagine the worst. It was a horrifying sight to have juxtaposed over our impending loss.

My experience with dying friends and relatives though, is quite different. While accompanied with deep emotion and a sense of tragedy, death is a spiritual experience as magnificent as birth. It quickens an awakening of the soul, and a deeper knowledge of the soul’s existence—both for those dying and those who care for them. If life’s purpose is to discover this aspect of ourselves and transcend our ego’s need for approval and control, death is the master course. My mom’s need for approval was completely transcended when she found herself (due to A.L.S.) unable to move or speak. She discovered through the death process that love was not about doing and saying things to gain approval, it had to do with who she was and her own capacity to show love—something she could do without words or actions. My brother’s need for control is continuously transcended as his brain tumor worsens; he repeatedly discovers he really has no control. We are all just along for the ride, and while there are certainly things that we can do to “control” our lives and manifest our reality, if Spirit doesn’t want the same thing for us, Spirit wins. So, do we really have control? True approval and control are generated from an alignment with our authentic selves, our true essence—love, not from our efforts to gain approval and control.

I’d like to invite you to take a look at your relationship with the sick and dying. Many of us avoid visiting people who are ill for a myriad of reasons ranging from our own fear of death to the avoidance of dealing with our own grief to simply not knowing what to say. We couldn’t do a greater disservice to ourselves or to those we are avoiding. While those who are dying notice which of their friends disappear from their lives, even more importantly, our avoidance of death only compounds our inability to deal with it. One thing we are assured of in life is that we will, at some point, have to face death–both in ourselves and in our loved ones.

When I was a school counselor two students lost their mother to illness and, technically, it was my job to check on them. Unfortunately, at that time, my greatest fear in life was the thought of losing my own mother so the thought of talking to them brought up all of my own fears. I avoided them for several months not knowing what to say or how to help. Thank goodness Hospice sent Bereavement Coordinator Prakash Mackay over to train me in helping children deal with grief. He explained that adults avoid helping children with grief because they are afraid of dealing with their own. I was guilty and I knew it.

I invite you to embrace the opportunity to discover the beauty of death by spending time with friends and family who are ill. Don’t worry about what to say, just be with them. Hold their hands, rub their feet, be present. Simply show up for them while simultaneously being self-observant of the emotions that rise in you. Allow yourself to feel. This is called living. Avoiding that which you fear, whether it be death or emotion, doesn’t diminish either; it only stuffs it below the surface where it affects you unconsciously.

This Halloween season, see if you can celebrate ancestors, feel at one with the spirit world, befriend death as a spiritual awakening and leave the horror to Hollywood.
With Aloha,
Eve

Intellectual Foreplay Question of the Week: How is your relationship with the sick and dying?

Love Tip of the Week: Seldom has anyone regretted the time they spent caring for or visiting a loved one who was dying. Regret comes from not doing so.