as the decades pass we lose friends, acquaintances, family. they are all called “beloved”, even those that weren’t...or who weren’t a lot of the time.conscious ageing calls for awareness of all that is, including the shadows, the aspects of ourselves that we prefer not to see or to be seen. in the shadow dwell the parts of ourselves that we regard as shameful, ugly, harmful. there we find that which is unhealed and raw.in the context of a loss, what do we do with the shadow that dwells inside? what of the anger, even rage we might feel toward the person who has died? what of the frustration and resentment? what of the unexpressed issues and hurts? what of the relief that might come at the person’s death? can these be acknowledged inwardly and outwardly? where is the safe space to say these things that are “speaking ill of the dead”?while the public face of mourning and grief might demand we speak only of the person’s good deeds, their humility, their great (and not so great) accomplishments, their generosity, what can we do with their miserliness, their lack of personal skills, their insensitivity, their need to control?how do we acknowledge these aspects of the deceased so that they remain a whole person? so that we can remain whole?
walk in the shadowsrefrain from the bright sunlightstay indoors under shelterlick the woundsspeak the hurt, the pain, the reliefperform personal rituals, away from the gaze of otherswithdraw into the shell of protectionsit with friends who can hear and hold these feelingstake relaxing bathseat what nurtures and gives comfortdrink many cups of calming infusionsbe fully authentic and true to yourselfuntil it is finisheduntil it is safe to go outside in the sunshine againuntil the sun itself beckons your presenceuntil the need for company arisesuntil the desire to be amongst people callsuntil the rituals have become dryuntil the desire for comfort feels oppressiveuntil the desire for a shower arisesuntil the need for stimulation is presentuntil it is rightuntil it is trueuntil it is real
a life ended
this is the blog post i had written before i got the news...a tangible realitymy brother is dying.death comes closer to each of us with every breath. to some it is obviously closer than to others. my brother is in the former group. he was diagnosed with multiple myeloma in 2009, with a prognosis of 5-8 years. it is now the eighth year. and he is, after a productive and successful life, mostly homebound, unable to walk unaided, and spending his days visiting various doctors who deal with his failing organs. gratefully, unlike millions of others, he has excellent care at home and will remain at home as long as possible. his days are filled with making difficult decisions and no small amount of pain.what does this mean to me? most happily, it means that he and i have been able to repair decades of difficult relationship. this has happened almost without speaking, in the silence of being.it has come about through connecting with the Love in me, Love not necessarily for him personally, but the Love that flows through me, and all of us, for no reason. it is the Love which underlies who we truly are.he too has softened from the hard-driving attorney he has been for over five decades. he has had to surrender his self-sufficiency for dependence, his control for assistance, his hard edges for his softer underbelly. this is a side of him that has been hidden by ambition and drive. it is my fervent hope that he too can allow Love to emerge, to become manifest, before he sighs his last exhalation.of necessity he has had to ask friends and family for help. he has had to reach out beyond the confines of his formerly sharp, incisive mind. now we have discussions. we have real conversations. and he listens. he appreciates.these are lessons he is teaching me as i seek to deepen into the profound nature of freedom. It is a freedom from separation in order to find liberation in connection. The proximity of death bring life into sharp focus. it allows the vision to clear and become open to a reality other than the vital one of daily tasks. it creates an environment in which we can make the connections that bring peace. uere we can remove shackles of our conditioned reality. here too we have to opportunity to face unflinchingly the unrelenting, elegant nature of change.this is the quest of eldering. this is the business of conscious ageing...living in my heart as i witness the last person who has known me since the day i was born. this is one of my eldering tasks. there is a profound sadness, not so much for my brother as a brother, but for the passing of another in my generation of blood family. holding my heart open to the coming and going of life and the often wrenching pain of death.i am committed to standing witness to his pain, and mine.i will be, from his last breath, assuming the mantle of the matriarch of my nuclear family. we are not many, as i chose not to have children. my brother has two. each of his children has two children so we are a group seven...until i die.
his approaching death has made mine more present, more vibrant, a tangible reality.and now that reality has shifted. he has died.on a practical note, i will not be posting for some time as i travel to israel for his funeral and then to los angeles to do what must be done.
is it sad?
as i lay on my bed, sinking into myself, i heard, in my memory’s ear, a friend’s voice saying, “i’m going to bed at 9:00. isn’t that sad?”
sad? why is that sad?‘sad’ implies that only staying up later than you might want to, in this moment, is ‘better’, ‘happy’, ‘right’. it implies that we are ‘sad’ because we might not choose, or be able to do, what we did at other times of life...and that the former things are what make life full and meaningful.my heart bleeds for those who think it is ‘sad’ to go to bed at the time when the body is calling for rest.yes, my body has changed.yes, my body has different needs now than when i was at a different stage in life.why do we think these changes are any worse than the changes that happened previously, in other times of life? no one would think it odd to buy new clothes as the old ones are outgrown. no one would deny a growing teenager more food, if it were available. no one would think it odd, strange, sad that she has need for nourishment so she can grow and change.why then do we think it sad that, at the elder stage of life, we need less?and what is the relationship between age and consuming? older people buy less...fewer gadgets, less music, fewer clothes, fewer cars and houses. because we live in a culture based on the economy, and we consume less, we are expendable! it seems we have nothing to offer a society that is based on buying, disposing and buying again.and we, ourselves...or some of us...think that’s sad. we have bought the image of youth as the ‘better’, ‘right’, ‘happy’ way to be. whole industries have been created to market to us. new anti-aging products appear daily, all objects of worship at the altar of youth.sadness arises in me when i realise how much wisdom is denied, how the resources of decades of experience is denied, how many wrinkles are disparaged and how many of us are ignored.joy arises in me when i realise there is an alternative... and we are creating it.
a dream
in the early morning hours...
i am giving birth. i live in a past time where women gave birth at home and often died in the process. the midwife is with me. i have already given birth to 13 children. this is the 14th child. the babe does not want to emerge and i am weakening in my body. i ask the midwife to give me a herb to encourage the babe. she tells me it could kill me. i know this and tell her i might die anyway, so there are risks either way. my spirit is strong and i choose the herb. before she can administer it, the babe emerges and i wake up.what does this dream tell me as i reflect on aging?
it speaks to me of the need to keep birthing, regardless of the number of ‘children’ i have created in the past. it speaks of the birth of new consciousness, new affinity, new openings, the birth of the cosmic child who lives in me. this 14th child is filled with wonder and delight as well as a deep awareness that my life-force is waning, slowly right now, sure to continue the process.and even as my physical energy may be less than in past decades, the energy of awareness is growing, birthing the unknown, the unexpected. this is the birth that needed no external assistance, no herb to encourage its emergence. it arose, if haltingly, from the inside. there is support, a midwife (or two) to guide the process of awakening while the birthing continues on its own.there was great energy and vibrance in the dream. though the surroundings were darkened, the drama unfolded clearly illuminated. i was aware of the risks. no matter which way i chose, the death of my ego was possible, even probable, certainly desired. the birth of new form continues regardless. i chose the life of consciousness over the physical form.
seventy-one
seventy-one seems such an odd age.70 felt like a milestone...i’ve lived three score and ten.71 means i’m ‘in my 70s’.i wonder how that happened?i know how it happened...a moment at a time, a breath at a time, an insight at a time, a tear at a time, a laugh at a time, a love at a time, a disappointment at a time...and here i am...now, breathing.
today i sat on the floor, cross-legged. i’ve done this thousands of times in my decades as a yoga practitioner. today i got up from the floor with an ache in my right hip joint. my left hip has been similarly troubled for quite some time. today the right one joined the party.my mind immediately began to wonder...what should i do about this? acupuncture? osteopathy? sit for 5 minutes each day to ease the ache? never sit on the floor again?and then i breathed...one breath at a time...breathed into my agitated mind, breathed into my hip. breathed into the letting go of fear, breathed into the unchanging, ever-present Love that is the ground of being.what does it mean for my body to age/change/transform from what it was to what it is in each moment? my body has never been the same from year to year. it has always been aging. it has hurt before this. and yet, somehow, this is different. this is being old, being less able, being less agile and being more vulnerable.can i let my heart be more vulnerable too? can i open my heart as i breathe? can i live in this Love?i can see that the moments that might lie ahead could be filled with this new process, a deeper awareness of my heartLove in addition to my body, to the witnessing of change and the awareness of the Witness.what is this Witness? what does she see? where does she live?she is that ever-present, unchangeable, glorious space of Love.she sees all that is without judgement or assessment.she lives in every cell, every molecule of all that exists, has existed, will exist.and i can touch her every time i choose to stop, to listen, to sense, to open to her glory.this is the lesson of 71.
what is love?
this question is the foundation of my search in elderhood, the bit of wisdom i might have gleaned from these years of living. this is search that has brought women and men wiser than i to their knees.and yet, i am willing to step into the seeking.
what i am coming to know, at a deep level, is that Love is not an emotion; it is not a feeling. what i am coming to Know is that Love is the substrate of existence. it is the pulse of creation. it is the bliss of connection. it is the outpouring of energy into millions, billions, of forms.and Love is the sometimes painful work of witnessing my behaviour, my callousness, my anger...the shadowed bits...that i can choose to hold in the light of Love until i--the me that i think i am-- can Love them fully.and this is that which i seek in my elderhood. this is what is left after all the rest has been examined and analysed. this is the essence, the root. this is what it means to be radical in my life...to go to the core. this is what it means to surrender the titles, the jobs, the acquisitions, the stuff that surrounds us. this is what it means to open to the incomprehensible.Love is concentrated, intense, black hole energy. it consumes all. all matter is consumed into a tiny, concentrated space where only Love exists. even light can’t escape from Love’s hold.and, simultaneously, Love expands beyond our ability to conceive, our ability to know. Love leads us to awe, to awakening.and then, somehow, in ways that are beyond understanding, we come to know Love.this is the theme of my elderhood.