My extended family has experienced two deaths recently. Two elderly family members passed away 12 days apart. Even though they were both expected and brought an end to physical suffering, it hits hard that they both came so close together. We are grieving.
In addition, I’ve been reading poets like Mary Oliver and Ross Gay, both of whom capture true joy and delight in simple things like a walk in the woods or picking fruit from a mulberry tree. At the same time, they both write explicitly about death: their own death and the deaths of loved ones. Having an active awareness of death and the fleeting nature of our earthly lives enables both of them to embrace the joy of this life more urgently and fervently.
All of this has me think a lot more about my own death. When my Grandmother approached her aging years, she often said that she was “getting friendlier with death.”
So following my grandmother’s lead, for the rest of January as everyone else is worshiping at the altar of health and wellness, I will be getting friendlier with death and sharing my musings with you.
If contemplating death makes you feel like running screaming toward the nearest vast wasteland, you are in good company. And this topic may hit closer to home with you depending on where you are right now. I invite you to take a deep breath, be gentle with yourself, and take on as much as you can right now.
Part 1 - The Death Meditation
Our culture, especially dominant American consumerist culture, actively discourages us to think about death. Products that make us look younger and stave off aging are everywhere. (Don’t get me started on plastic surgery fads in Southern California!) Aging and especially dying are hidden away behind closed doors - left to professionals - and all emotions stuffed firmly down.
The Buddhists have a tradition of a death mediation, called Maranasati. The practice is to keep our death in mind so as to be more fully aware of our actions and live into them in the moment.
According to Edward Cone, the noted historian of Buddhism:
“As a result of the recollection of death one reflects on the fact that one is sure to die, gives up the search for what is unworthy, and steadily increases one’s agitation until one has lost all sluggishness.”
In other words, being aware that we will die helps focus our priorities, shed off what doesn’t matter to us and propels us into more fully embracing the life we have.
Apparently, Samurai had a practice of death contemplation as well, likely drawn from the Buddhist practice. I happened to run into this in a book by Ben Horowitz on organizational culture. Samurai acknowledged each morning that they could die before the day’s end, and ended each day similarly aware that death was imminent. Think of fighting against a samurai who was fully ready to die and would fight to the death because he knew it was coming and was no longer afraid. Apparently Samurai encouraged everyone to contemplate their deaths as well, not so that they would just sit around waiting for their own demise, but to inspire and motivate all to live more fully in each moment.
Even the Swedes are in the game with Swedish death cleaning. Author Margareta Magnusson, a Swede who wrote The Gentle Art of Swedish Death Cleaning: How to Free Yourself and Your Family From a Lifetime of Clutter, shares the Swedish idea of döstädning, which translates to death cleaning. The idea is to see your home and possessions through the lens of your loved ones who will have to clean out your dwelling after you die. Magnusson urges that if you start anytime after age 65, even working slowly, there will be much less burden for those left behind. And yes, in order to do all this cleaning, you have to have your own death front and center in your mind picturing your demise and your loved ones living without you.
Death certainly put things in perspective.
Pretty sure that’s what happened to most of us during and just after the worst of Covid lock downs. When faced with our own death or the death of our loved ones, our whole lives snapped into perspective. No wonder so many quit jobs, moved to be near family, or made other major changes. Trivial things just didn’t seem to matter. (Of course, some of us dealt with the stress of facing our own death by lashing out at others and embracing polarization of us-against-them. We will go a long way to run away from the fact that we will die.)
I studied abroad in Paris for a year in college. I saw so many beautiful places and neighborhoods, and took a class at the Louvre every Friday. Yet, in my last few days, I still had so much I wanted to see that I squeezed in everything I had been putting off throughout the year. My last day was especially packed crisscrossing the city from the catacombs, to small unknown museums, cafes, etc. before I crammed everything in my suitcase to get on the plane.
Life doesn’t give us a timeline like that. We can’t squeeze in all the things we wanted to do with our last days. So, as I become friendlier with death, I want more days of doing things I’ve always wanted to do: less putting off the list until hypothetical ‘someday’ and more exploration, curiosity, and delight. Knowing all this will end for me will help me see the preciousness of today and embrace it.
~What I’m reading~
Wild and Precious: A Celebration of Mary Oliver Narrated by Sofia Bush
What You Do Is Who You Are: How to Create Your Business Culture by Ben Horowitz
Frances, I'm so sorry for your losses. I, too, have had three significant deaths recently - all in short order (including my dad). This is an amazing gift you are giving me and my family - sharing with them all! This will be a blessing to us. Thx.
Yes to all of this! I have a post I'm writing on acknowledging our own mortality as a society, and will link to this in it! Looking forward to reading more of your musings on this with Part II.