i am 100 years old.
i am on my deathbed, surrounded by those i love and who love me.i have lived a full life, a life of riches...filled with light and glory as well deep sadness and despair.from the deep well of depression have come lessons...reaching out, asking for help, surrendering to the dark times, finding compassion in the depths of the human condition.from the brilliant, glorious times have come lessons...elation, smiles that emerge from the brightest places in me, a deep tranquility, a profound love of all that exists, an intense commitment to spirit.it is from these extremes that i have arrived at centre...the calm, balanced state of equanimity. it is here that i was most able to share the lessons and the gifts. from this place of connection words have emerged in which others have found solace and inspiration. somehow i have been able to reach others, find the fire in them, touch their hearts.i have been able to embrace others as they walk their unique path. i have served as mentor and teacher, opening doors that had been closed, blocked by memory and hurt.i have danced in joy and in pain. i have opened to the magic of my body, the ecstasy and the changes of growth, maturity and age.wisdom has emerged along this path, wisdom i have shared with others.i have learned solitude as well as loneliness. i have learned connection with others. i have learned silence and inner searching. from this place, the joy of birdsong and words and music arose.in this moment, i breathe my last exhalation.
an ordinary cold?
i was recovering from an ordinary cold. it truly does take longer to recover and, at the same time, my body’s natural defense, a slightly elevated temperature, rose to the occasion. i sweated in the night and woke up refreshed, not yet well, but over the most uncomfortable part.
then, one night, unable to truly sleep sitting up, i somehow drifted off. then i woke suddenly with a start, unable to breathe. i wheezed, panicked, didn’t know what to do. couldn’t call 999. they wouldn’t get to me on time anyway, if i were to die. i raced to the toilet, wanting to vomit, to rid myself of whatever was blocking my airway. somehow, i recovered breath.it left me shaking and scared. this is the fear of living alone. there is no one to help, no one to re-assure. on my own...yet, it was not the time to die.it was time to wake up and live some more.and what to live for?is this phase of life about preparing to die? is it about delving deeper into one's purpose? is it about finding meaning when there are fewer external structures to support an identity? is it about connecting with the most profound aspects of being human?yes, and yes, and yes, and yes
in tibet, in ourselves
the tibetan book of the dead reveals how the process of leaving the body might happen. each of our elemental parts slowly leave with specific effects on the body's sensations.
find a comfortable seat and take a moment now to imagine...the earth element leaves, so the body feels heavy.the water element leaves, so the body feels dry.the fire element leaves, so the body feels cold.the air element leaves, so the body feels the out-breath to be longer than the in-breath.until the final exhalation.keeping death in my consciousness as a mystery and a transformational process imbues each moment with richness and energy, with vibrant aliveness. each movement, each step, each action becomes holy, sacred and filled with the awareness of its fleeting existence. each evanescent moment is this moment. it is the only moment i have, though my conditioned self believes otherwise.this walk toward and into death is not a failure or an error. it is the fulfillment of a lifetime. it is the end of a process, a on-going relationship with life.can the moment of death be a release? can it be an acceptance of the dissolving of boundaries? can it be the experience of opening, expanding, the speeding of awareness? can i move toward, and into, my death with love, in love and for love?
open the heart in hell
terrorist attacks at concerts, on bridges, in marketplaces
burning apartment blocksfloods and faminewar and disease and contaminated waterearthquakes and monsoonshow to hold the suffering in the world without closing my heart, without hardening my mind into ignore-ance? can i see suffering as a gift?i can see it thus only when i recognise that suffering is part of what it means to be human. i cannot separate my human-ness from the experience of suffering, my own and that of others.it is the fear of the pain in heartbreak, and the vulnerability that comes with heartbreak, that closes the door to my heart. when i can acknowledge that suffering hurts, when i can remain present even as my heart shatters, i have a different quality of being.as i experience my ageing body and mind, and open to the death, i come face to face with the unbearable, with hell. i come face to face with fear and grief, terror and tears. the existence i once thought would be unchanging and fixed is no longer. the life i envisioned as continuing forever isn't continuing in the same way.and yet, here i am, in this moment, in the reality of who i am now.in the now i can open to compassion for myself and for others. in the now i can experience the gift that is suffering, even if it seems otherwise, even if the pain of it seems unbearable. in the now i can hold my personal suffering as an opportunity to see how my mind clings to the past, to the flexible, thinner, younger, more active me. in the now i can see the ageing me with love.all of this comes to pass only if i am willing, only if i can surrender to the truth of the now. i will, most likely, become feeble and dependent. if, at that time, i am not at war with myself, not at odds with that reality, i can imagine the experience being beautiful and filled with the radiance of each present moment.when i can let go of my image as a separate entity, a person unconnected to the whole of life, i can allow another to give to me, to care for me. i can remain dignified even in what is often thought of as undignified circumstances. i can imagine being present to the pain.hell has become heaven.death is filled with life.life is filled with death.the heart breaks, shatters into shardsand light flows in. 
the splits
yup, today, in yoga class, the teacher gave us advance notice...we are preparing the body to do the splits. i laughed inside. others groaned audibly. i know i can no longer do splits. i rarely could when i was a younger, middle-aged, yogini. such are the fading capacities of the body. i'm grateful i could laugh.for elders becoming more conscious, there is no longer the expectation that we can, or should, go beyond what we are actually capable of; to go beyond what is the truth of our being in this moment. there is no longer the need to prove anything, either to ourselves or to anyone else. it is a mark of psychological maturity that we can be ourselves, no longer at the mercy of others. it is a mark of spiritual maturity that we can honour our inner authority.the realisation that we have no control over life's unfolding, brings, alongside it, the awareness that we can be the subject of our lives. we can be the one who acts, rather than the object, the one who is acted upon.i can, and will, choose to refrain from the splits, literally and metaphorically. the splits that the legs could once do no longer interest me. what holds my attention is the inner 'splits', the challenges to my heart, my mind, my consciousness. these are the arenas that excite me and propel me to deeper exploration...integrity, forgiveness, honesty, authenticity, lessening attachment, love, caring, openness, surrender, gratitude.these are the aspects of maturity that stimulate the opening of spiritual muscles, that allow the feeling of the life-force traveling through the sinews of our being. this sense of aliveness as elderhood unfolds is an internal trajectory. this pathway is the road to holding each moment, each breath, each heartbeat as if it were the splits.in yoga parlance, the splits are called hanumanasana. the name derives from the monkey god who jumped over the sea in order to perform heroic acts of courage and devotion. it is this jump that is replicated in the pose, in the splits.how can we be hanuman? what heroic acts can we perform each day...acts of love, acts of courage, acts of truth? what are we devoted to? what acts of commitment grow from inside...acts of constancy, acts of love, acts of fierce dedication?these are the acts, the splits, of the elder.
a number
it happened again. once again my hackles rose.an article’s headline that reads, “embrace life. age? it’s just a number”embrace life...for sureit’s just a number....no!it isn’t JUST a number.it’s a number...a sacred, precious, honourable number.the word “just” negates all the years of joy and tears. it minimises the many decades of experience, the unique wisdom acquired in a lifetime.certainly the people celebrated in the article are honourable and wise. and yet we are exhorted to dance, swim, sail, garden in the same way we did in earlier years. they are meant to be shining examples we are supposed to emulate.no mention is made of this wise and honourable person and his understanding of ageing.
"My work around the issue of aging is to quiet the mind — it’s standing back enough so that I am not so caught in the culture and the set of attitudes I developed from my childhood; so that I can see what is, and respond in a way that is in harmony with that; so that I become a part of it. This is the way a bird sings or a river flows or a baby cries."
these words were spoken by ram dass, a venerable sage of our time. after his debilitating stroke he despaired, in spite of decades of spiritual practice. in a moment of insight he understood that he could use his suddenly less-able body as his spiritual practice. in that moment he came alive again, filled with irrepressible energy. currently his speech is slurred, he spends his days in a wheelchair and he is filled with serenity and vibrancy.
he’s 86.that’s not just a number.as our physical capacities decline, as ram dass's did, our inner resources can expand and evolve. the places that gratitude, faith, love, acceptance occupy can grow to fill more of our being. these qualities can radiate from our core to touch those around us, to exemplify conscious ageing and spiritual eldering.to do this we need numbers...sacred, precious, honourable numbers. we need the years of living so that, even in dire circumstances like ram dass’s, we can open to our deepest selves. we can let go of the images and demands of youth and middle years for the glory of conscious ageing.may we all open to these possibilities.