Samantha
It is a difficult thing for any of us to face, this immortality, this impermanence of what we call life. Death, is viewed as an oppossite to life, viewed by many as a topic best left alone or at best, only at times when it is absolutely required, as in visiting a wake in a funeral home. Generally there are well wishers, those whose intentions are good, yet thier words are frothy with emotion and they lack the sustanence needed. Thier words leave one with little to chew on, little to examine.
As my mother was dying from pancreatic cancer, I watched this take place. My mother was tired, she had been on this rock for many many years, 87 to be exact. Like you she had many life times, just in this lifetime alone. I saw the well wishers file in, one by one. Each had thier own message and each told thier lies, thier messages of hope. They lied and told her she look well, she looked strong etc. Even my own wife told her how good she looked. My mother stopped her in her tracks and said, "Stop Lying". My mother was as vain as they come and she knew, that although she was on a new chemo that saved her hair and brought no nausea and had no effects on her own eyes. She could see plainly in the mirror what the deal was. She was a Leo according to the zodiac, and like the great cat that she was, she simply wanted to curl up in the sun and bask in it's radiant warmth and sleep, she was so tired...she was anxious for peace. But few would let her be...namely, my father.
Ever the stoic, military pilot, he simply insisted that she live, which seemed rather arrogant. Yet I believe he acted so out of his own selfishness. This was his wife of 56 years, what would become of him? Who would tend to him? Who would put up with him? She had to stay alive.
At the diagnosis, I asked my mother what she wanted to do...she winked at me. My father immediately protested by explaining a top notch oncologist and his staff were drawing game plans to fight this pancreatic cancer. Well, they wouldnt fight, they would provide the weaponry, and it was expected that my mother was the one to do the fighting. But as I said, she was simply tired. I asked again, what do you want to do. She had a choice, a "cancer coctail" which would allow her to rest comfortably or run the rigors of the chemo regimen, again she simply winked at me. I made my way towards the door and my father grasp me by the arm and "offered" to walk me to my car. He was furious with me for not encouraging her to fight and told me so in no uncertain terms in the parking lot of the hospital. His fury was all based on fear...his fear.
He was loyal, if not religious in her medical appointments, her medications (waking her up ay 3am to take meds to help her sleep etc). He dressed her and got her to appointments two hours early, Keep in mind, she was a Leo...what cat wants to be early for anything. But he pushed and he pushed. I visited one day and her hair was all askew, her hair was going in 40-50 directions and my father pratteld on about this apointment and that appointment, he had me review oncologist reports (as if I knew what they meant). I was infuriated with him. They lived in a retirment center, a nice plush place, A major selling point for my mom was that they had a hair stylist on staff witha full salon. I unleashed on my father for being so damn militant that he did not even consider appealing to one of her greatest treasures...her vanity. At the least, he could get her hair done, allowing her dignity and the comfort of her own vanity.
My wish for her was a comfortable, peaceful transition...which brings me to my point. Last night I wrote of "The Tibetian Book of the Dead ". As I sat quiet last night I remeber a talk given by a man speaking on the book and he gave the original name. I can not even begin to pronounce it as it was in Pali, the lanquage of the Tibetian peoples. I recall the translation being roughly, "Dealing with the Great Transition". As I mentioned last night, it was an instruction manual for Monks who would stay with the individual for 49 days, chanting, guiding the person thru the Great Transition. As Roman Catholosism (sp) has pergatory (sp), the Buddhist have Parbo, or barbo, the actual state of transition from one incarnation to the next incarnation. If you go to any Buddhist temple/monastary for the Vietmanese, Laotian, Thia or Cambodian. this rite is still in practise. The dead, and the family of the dead are given special chants and give the community the opportunity to ease the suffering of the family and homage to the deceased. Yet it is not viewd as death, this is not to say they simply refuse to accept the person has taken thier final breath. Just the opposite, the view on death is like that of sleeping. Friends, family and others gather to make sure they sleep comfortably untill they awake. And some how, somewhere along the line, they figured it took 7 weeks, or 49 days for the transition to be complete.
From your words, you are begining to face the undeniable fact of the looming transition...and you are "besides yourself". Fear will come in many forms, but know that it is simply fear. Fears do not equate fact. What i would encourage goes against most, if not all of our cultures teachings and frankly seems to be counter-intuitive. And chances are you have heard it before...Embrace your fears. Examine them, call forth the demons that haunt you at this time. Look the demons in the eye, open your arms and encourage your fears to do thier best, taunt them, as they taunt you. Like a guard dog that will chase you, ever thought of stopping, facing the charging guard dog. As long as you run, the dog will instincively give chase. In stopping and facing the dog, immediately the dog will recognise this as foriegn and have no instinctual reaction. If you begin running towards the dog, giving chase to the dog, this confuses the dog and he wil retreat. Our fears are not much different. Stop, examine and welcome your fears, embrace them, they are yours after all and certainly worthy of investigation. Question thier validity, question thier power, question thier authority over your other emotions, thier authority of your logical/rational mind. This is not easy, this is not comfortable...infact it is downright terrifying before the fears begin to loose thier icy grip. I speak from direct experiance here. Watch the experiance, watch the tricks of the mind and how it allows the fear to wiggle and writh about, watch as the fears surmount and increase in it's effort to maintain it's strength. As the fear begins to scream, like the wicked witch in the Wizard of Oz when she was splashed with water, listen for the shreks of terror as the fear begins its descent into the ethers. As the fears wither into no-existance watch and see what remains...a peace. A peace that has always been thier, but like a fickle lover, peace will wait while you entertain other things you think is more important. When those "important" things are realized as trivial, you fickel lover, peace, axiously awaits your return. This something you can do tween your own ears!
Death is the great transition...but transition to what? Like Straight Inc. they wanted us to change...but change into what? The vast majority of us hate change, and transition for that matter. If there is ever a time to drop hate from our vocabulary, now is the time. We can not afford the luxury of anger or hatred. But all to often we pay the price of seething anger and hatred. Dear Samantha, as said earlier...you have fought many battles, you have fought for justice, you have fought for the fundemental rights of children that experiance our experiance, you have fought well dear lady. Be at peace now, the "fight", the need to "fight" is triffeling and moot. Be at peace, your body has fought as well, rest now. Death will come on it's on accord but for the moment, your alive, you have the opportunity to know yourself as peace itself. This peace is not only possible, but inevitable. If peace is availiable in the future as peace has been available in the past, it is most certainly possible now...Look and see.
You need not subscribe to Buddhist thought, nor any other line of thought. I encourage you to look for yourself. It is not unlike a cup of coffee. I can describe it, I can tell you it's tempature, I can tell you it is creamy with milk, and that it is bitter as I use no sugar. I can forwarn you that it is strong coffee not weak, I can tell you the brand and from where it was grown, But you will never experiance the coffee unless you do one thing...taste it. In essence, dont go by my words, yes, I am a Buddhist, but I am a Buddhist with torrets syndrom, with many flaws and compassion often escapes my actions, yet I am a tenacious Buddhist as well. I am not a Lama, I am no Monk, nor do I strive to be. However, I am especially sensitive to those near and dear to me and I extend my heart to them. We are not "friends", we never hung out, we never spoke more than 2 dozen words to each other. And tho we are not near, I do hold you as dear, and for that reason my wish for you is peace.
I hope my words find you in that peace, and I hope you accept my words with the intention inwhich they were written...In Peace.
woof
