I have a confession...I had to quit writing. I have a writing policy -- I can't start another until I finish the one I'm working on. So although many things have happened that I wanted to write about, felt called to share, I had to skip them because I had this undone post in my Drafts Folder. If not for the counsel of my friend, L, this would still be in my Drafts Folder.
I quit writing this post because it was about death. And then someone died. It seemed callous at that point to post my latest, so I waited. But then another person died, and it seemed, again, that it was inappropriate to post it.
But then life stepped in...read on. I'll explain more in a minute.
Know this was originally started on April 7, 2012 -- weeks ago.
I am a true believer in what I used to call coincidence. My cousin AF told me it's actually called synchronicity. I've read it described as "The uncanny coincidence. The unlikely conjunction of events. The startling serendipity." I'm open to it, and it seems to happen regularly in my life. It makes me feel alive and lively in my days. It makes me feel like an active participant in the wider world.
I quit writing this post because it was about death. And then someone died. It seemed callous at that point to post my latest, so I waited. But then another person died, and it seemed, again, that it was inappropriate to post it.
But then life stepped in...read on. I'll explain more in a minute.
Know this was originally started on April 7, 2012 -- weeks ago.
I am a true believer in what I used to call coincidence. My cousin AF told me it's actually called synchronicity. I've read it described as "The uncanny coincidence. The unlikely conjunction of events. The startling serendipity." I'm open to it, and it seems to happen regularly in my life. It makes me feel alive and lively in my days. It makes me feel like an active participant in the wider world.
So each morning I spend some time reading. One book I like to read is a book I've had for years, although I've loaned it out more than a few times, meaning I've been without it for months at a time. But it came back to me just yesterday. And this morning, I opened it up randomly and this is what I read:
Tao te Ching, Verse 48
In the pursuit of knowledge,
every day something added.
In the practice of the Tao,
every day something is dropped.
Less and less do you need to force things,
until finally you arrive at non-action.
When nothing is done,
nothing is left undone.
True mastery can be gained
by letting things go their own way.
It can't be gained by interfering.
-- Lao Tzu
For Christmas I got another book I'm really enjoying reading. Today's contribution was this:
The whole world could praise Sung Jung-Tzu and it wouldn't make him exert himself.
The whole world could condemn him and it wouldn't make him mope.
He drew a clear line between the internal and the external.
-- Chuang Tzu
For my birthday, another friend gave me a really amazing book. I'm loving it. Here's today's reflection:
That life and death could be aspects of each other seems unbelievable to most people.
Will this ever change?
I doubt it.
-- Chuang Tzu
And perhaps you ask yourself what does this have to do with synchronicity or even with each other? And this is what I'd have to say...
Last weekend, I was with three of my sons working on a project at the elementary school. We were working with another family. I heard my 11-year old chatting with his friend. "I've known four people to die already in my life." His friend audibly ooohhhed. Then my boy went on to tick off each person on his fingers by name and cause of death. "You forgot one," I said. "What about XX?" "Oh, yeah," my son excitedly replied. "I forgot about XX. I've known FIVE people to die already."
I'm sure this kind of conversation is age-appropriate and even socially acceptable for 11-year olds. It's remarkable when people you actually know quit existing. It's totally understandable to be awed by death, I would think. There are aspects of this world that we take for granted until we learn otherwise, until we learn the transient nature of our very lives. Until we learn how haphazard breathing in and out can actually be.
Several weeks back I visited my mom's house. I just needed some time away, but as an added bonus, there was a big get together of family friends -- my brother's friends -- people I'd grown up wanting to emulate, the heroes and rockstars of my youth. I hadn't seen most of them in a decade? Two? Honestly, I'm not sure. It's been years. It's a beautiful group of friends -- men and women who have stayed close and in touch through marriages, divorces, children, illness. And death.
Of the friends, each seems to have suffered a senseless family loss. Shooting, illness, suicide, car accident. It's a common thread in their shared experiences, a tether that holds them together in their distinct life trajectories.
And it got me thinking. I would have a hard time counting the people I have known who have died. There have been so many. Death has been alive and well in my life. Tragic deaths -- babies, children, teenagers, young adults, middle age, elderly.
So cut right here...stop just for a second.
First, I no longer own the book I got for Christmas. Just like that it whispered to me that it needed to be free, so I gave it to a person who looked to be its true owner. Gone.
Second, there are now two more people to add to my list...so my countless list is even more countless.
Third, synchronicity prevailed. In my devout refusal to post this post, I got a typing job. A eulogy. Of all things. And here we are. I'm now completely brushed up on The Book of Common Prayer. It was the perfect antidote to paralysis and indecision.
So let's continue.
Death happens. That's why there's a portion of The Book of Common Prayer dedicated to death and dying and the rites of the dead. And it's not just to the body that death happens. I see elements of dead spirits in my every day life. I see dead and dying relationships littering the ground around me. I see dead ideas, old notions, outdated thinking lining the path that's brought me to this place.
I remember one time a hospice worker telling me that the will to live is the strongest will there is. So much of the pain of death and dying isn't of the body at all, but of our spirits -- that intense desire to hang on, to keep alive that which is familiar, no matter its condition. So much of our pain comes from not letting go. A lack of surrender.
And so what I gathered this day, weeks ago, from these readings was this...life and death are intricately related. We can't have one without the other. And although death and life happens to us, it is not us. We are more than the act of living or dying. And if I am in tune with the everydayness of my life, I will see the process of birth and life and death in each of my minutes. Life is hallmarked by an untold number of beginnings and endings. So many, that we've all lost count.
I had someone, in the not too distant past, tell me that I seemed "ho hum" about death and dying. I was somewhat shocked. I believe the opposite is true about me. It's in my understanding of the mundane nature of dying that I'm strong. It's in my realization of death's inevitability that I gain space to experience living. It's in the recognition of the process that I witness the limitless beings of those around me.
And so as I go forth from this post (the post I'd rather not post) I'm comforted by the sure knowledge and certainty of the cycle of life for living bodies as well as for living relationships. As I witness the falling away of people and relationships, I'm gaining in hope, as I know the most fertile ground is that which houses decaying matter. And so I think, at least today, that my life is primed for growing a garden of new life.
So cut right here...stop just for a second.
First, I no longer own the book I got for Christmas. Just like that it whispered to me that it needed to be free, so I gave it to a person who looked to be its true owner. Gone.
Second, there are now two more people to add to my list...so my countless list is even more countless.
Third, synchronicity prevailed. In my devout refusal to post this post, I got a typing job. A eulogy. Of all things. And here we are. I'm now completely brushed up on The Book of Common Prayer. It was the perfect antidote to paralysis and indecision.
So let's continue.
Death happens. That's why there's a portion of The Book of Common Prayer dedicated to death and dying and the rites of the dead. And it's not just to the body that death happens. I see elements of dead spirits in my every day life. I see dead and dying relationships littering the ground around me. I see dead ideas, old notions, outdated thinking lining the path that's brought me to this place.
I remember one time a hospice worker telling me that the will to live is the strongest will there is. So much of the pain of death and dying isn't of the body at all, but of our spirits -- that intense desire to hang on, to keep alive that which is familiar, no matter its condition. So much of our pain comes from not letting go. A lack of surrender.
And so what I gathered this day, weeks ago, from these readings was this...life and death are intricately related. We can't have one without the other. And although death and life happens to us, it is not us. We are more than the act of living or dying. And if I am in tune with the everydayness of my life, I will see the process of birth and life and death in each of my minutes. Life is hallmarked by an untold number of beginnings and endings. So many, that we've all lost count.
I had someone, in the not too distant past, tell me that I seemed "ho hum" about death and dying. I was somewhat shocked. I believe the opposite is true about me. It's in my understanding of the mundane nature of dying that I'm strong. It's in my realization of death's inevitability that I gain space to experience living. It's in the recognition of the process that I witness the limitless beings of those around me.
And so as I go forth from this post (the post I'd rather not post) I'm comforted by the sure knowledge and certainty of the cycle of life for living bodies as well as for living relationships. As I witness the falling away of people and relationships, I'm gaining in hope, as I know the most fertile ground is that which houses decaying matter. And so I think, at least today, that my life is primed for growing a garden of new life.
