The last few weeks have been intense for me. Death was around me, not in my innermost circle, but close enough to affect me. And, just removed enough to not be drawn into the paralysis of inconsolable loss.
This is how my last weeks have been:
On March 1st, a dear friend of my husband died of cancer, after years of battling it. We were as well prepared for this as one can be. And he died well, in his home. But nobody was prepared for what came next. Within the week, the husband of one of my dearest friends was run over by a car while bicycling up to Tilden Park. He was left in critical condition by the roadside by a driver who fled the scene without calling for help. Luckily, a passerby called 911 and he was brought into the ICU in time so that eventually he will recover without lasting impediments. He is still on the mend and was just released to go home. What a relief! But, life had more in stock. Just after feeling the tremendous relief of knowing that he would be alright, i got an email from another dear girlfriend saying that one of her best friends was dying of cancer. My friend, who was still in South America on a year-long sabbatical, decided to come home early to be with her friend. And yesterday it was my turn to be of support to her when she returned from her friend’s death bed.
In between the accident and the last death, i drove down to Pacific Grove and spent three days by the ocean in beautiful Asilomar with 200 women — coaches and healer solo-preneurs. My intention was to learn about marketing, about how to reach more people with my work in order to have a greater impact, help more people, and have greater ‘job” security. I heard a lot of talk about finding my target audience, my niche, about giving talks, and about having enrollment conversations. But my heart was not in it.
What stuck with me, as i realized last night, is this momentous lesson of life: that death can be just minutes away at any given moment. This lesson was to bring me in touch with how precious and how fragile life is.
Appreciating my life and that of the people i love and care for is one thing. Making friends with the idea of death is another. My friend and i talked about our own deaths and how we hope the circumstances for it would be. Dying in peace and in a respectful environment is important to both of us. To me, my own death will be my ultimate initiation. It will be the most paramount act of surrendering. As i see it, at birth we are thrown into life in a cathartic way. We grow up becoming more and more attached to certain ways we think of ourselves (as intelligent, pretty, gentle, strong, successful, weak — you name it) and to things and situations, with comfort and security playing a big role. At the same time, we grow less curious, adventurous, and willing to take risks. We shut out the thought of death because it is the antithesis of the security we try to create for ourselves. But, in the end, death will destroy all our attachments. It seems to me that being more adventurous, more courageous, and more authentic, is not only a good way of experiencing life more fully; it is also a good way to prepare for death.
If you are struggling with taking risks or stepping outside of habitual patterns and expectations that don’t serve you, or feel that your soul’s yearning has been neglected for too long, contact me to explore how i can help you step more into your true nature and get the soul-nurturing you need. It might just be the time to let go of the “I should” and replace it with a clear “I will” that expresses your commitment to yourself.
Please forward the link to this article on to friends and family to inspire others to include the reality of death in their attitude toward life. And, if you feel called to share your thoughts about life and death, use the comment function to engage with me and others. I look forward to reading your comments.
© Eva Ruland, April 2014
sfsoulspa 