Death is confrontational, as any permanent ending is.
Death holds so much weight and yet involves so much mystery. It affects everyone and everything. It is a part of life and yet, too often, we don’t talk about it, we don’t want to accept it, much less decide what we can learn from it.
Death begs you to grieve. It also begs you to celebrate the life that was lived in ways that maybe you weren’t already celebrating when they were still living.
Death offers us change. An offer, mind you, we have to accept, although many fight to do so.
Death offers us a challenge for how we will live. Will we continue in our same mundane patterns or is there something more, something worth prioritizing in light of this unavoidable destination?
I’ve been privy to experiencing the death of a loved one, only once thus far in my life. It is a sacred moment to attend to the last breath of someone you love. Not a welcomed moment, but a cherished one still.
I have also lost others including all of my grandparents and most recently my mother-in-law. At the very least these deaths, still deeply grieved, were more easily reconciled because of the ages of the people.
I’ve also realized that death happens daily. Not just daily in the world but in our lives.
Within all of our human journeys, there are cycles. Life seems to include birth, growth, death, and then new life again. These cycles are also represented in nature and the four seasons. The centerpiece of the Christian story (the religion that I grew up with) was Jesus’s life, death, and resurrection. This is also known as the path of descent. That the way up is indeed down first.
It is ultimately a cycle of letting go, letting be, and letting come.
There’s a difference between talking about these things, reading about the cycles, recognizing them in nature, and becoming aware that this is the way of life… of all our lives.
I know it’s daunting to consider that you and I are going to go through death, not just once but countless times on this journey of life. We will have to face not only the end of our lives but many endings. Not only with the deaths of those close to us but also every time someone experiences a divorce, loses a job, has a child that graduates, or experiences a shift in external circumstances, something, some season is dying and ending and that also means something else can and is waiting to be born.
Something that I want to note right away is that our deaths can be both voluntary and involuntary. We can walk ourselves right into seasons of suffering and pain. Other times we’re handed a load we never asked to carry and fought hard to never, ever have to hold.
Either way, deaths are messy and not easily dealt with or even cleaned up.
You find out about an affair, your sibling gets the news of cancer, or even when you find out you are pregnant again - these are all real-life things and real deaths that we face. Circumstances in our lives that can be seen as markers. Markers that state, after this, life was different.
My point is that we do not need to get over our deaths, nor can we escape them. We must choose to descend with them so that we can move through them. Our growth comes first from acceptance.
I don’t mean that we should cling to the pain any death brings. I think we can open-handedly hold our pain so that we can begin to see it, analyze it, be curious about it, and then reflect - ok what is ours to now do?
Think about it - you can’t let go of something until you first open up.
In this posture of surrender - which is exactly what’s taking place - this is when transformation can begin to take place.
Then the cycle continues. And who we are looks very different on the other side of death and surrender. The next phase carries some qualities of life from before but it also includes so much strikingly new.
It is not just an awakening from the darkness BUT it is an emerging with new light. And a gentle reminder that births are also not clean.
I am not sure if you have either given birth or been in the room during a birth but it is a sacred and messy event.
You can’t skip to the fresh, clean new without going through the process.
The new you on the other side of any death will not emerge without effort.
This struggle through is also a breaking free.
In 2000 the movie, Men of Honor, with Cuba Gooding and Robert De Niro was inspired by the true story of Master Chief Petty Officer Carl Brashear, the first African American master diver in the United States Navy. Carl has to overcome many obstacles on his way to becoming a Navy Master Diver including racism and the hard tests of the work of a diver in general. He achieves his goal, goes on to become a hero, and saves the life of another diver. Then in an accident, Carl ends up up losing his leg. So everything he had worked for, the goals and dreams he achieved were now dead. After much anguish, Carl decides to get a prosthetic leg and work to regain his service as a Master Diver. But no Navy man had ever done this. The last test of the trial is that he has to walk 12 steps with the gear on in the courtroom. The Deep Sea helium suit weighed 290 lbs. A diver had to have the stamina of diving and wearing this gear. So These 12 steps in the gear were hard enough on someone with two working legs and now seemingly impossible for him.
So in this moment, his Master Chief reminds him that the death of his dream is not the end, he reminds him who he is and what he is called to be as a Navy Diver and a man of honor. Carl’s life had turned in a way he would never have wanted. He faced a death and found a way to a new life as well.
I remember the night of the death of my brother-in-law in 2007. My sister - who’d just become a 32-year-old widow, asked me to sleep with her that night and the few nights to follow leading up to the funeral. She was lost in the moment of this death. She was drowning in bewilderment and sorrow. I knew Tiffany had it in her to face this. To grieve this. To be able to move on to a new life. She just didn’t know she could. But I knew she had to, for her own sake, and her son’s. So I thought about that movie. How in that courtroom, when Carl was ready to give up on the new life that was afforded to him, he had someone there to remind him of the strength he held. See, Robert Di Nero’s character didn’t give Carl something he didn’t already have - he just passionately believed in and encouraged him that all he needed to do was to take the next step. Then the next and then the next. I wrote a song called Next Step that became the title track of my solo record back in 2009. That record was so healing for me and my family. For the majority of my earlier recordings, I find it challenging to resonate because my perspectives have evolved and expanded over time. However, 'Next Step' remains a cherished exception, a song that continues to hold a special place in my heart despite the shifts in my journey.
But oh, how death is confrontational.
So the questions remain - what death are you currently facing? What part of your life that you had no choice in is entombed right now? What would happen if that part of your life was transformed, and brought back to life in a new way? Are you ready for this kind of rising? Are you willing to partner with life and allow for growth into new seasons and new spaces and ultimately a new you?
I hope you are. I hope I am too.
May we accept that there is wisdom and beauty all along our journey and growth, found both in our dying and our rising.
Ever learning and with love, Melissa
We look with uncertainty
Beyond the old choices for
Clear-cut answers
To a softer, more permeable aliveness
Which is every moment
At the brink of death;
For something new is being born in us
If we but let it.
We stand at a new doorway,
Awaiting that which comes…
Daring to be human creatures.
Vulnerable to the beauty of existence
Learning to love.
~ Anne Hillman
“They tried to bury us but they did not know we were seeds.” - Mexican Proverb.
Absolutely beautiful. I loved every word of this. Love you.