Happy Life & Death
On the precipice of the unknown, I am reminded of the nearness of death to life. We prefer to think about life and death as two sides of a scale, balancing one another but more importantly, far apart. And yet, the closer I get to birth, the closer I feel to death.
My shtetl Jewish ancestors passed down superstitious practices to ensure death is not tempted by birth:
•Babies are not named until after they are born.
•Baby showers are seen as premature.
•Baby strollers and cribs are not bought until after the baby is born.
I have found myself practicing these traditions, both as a way of honoring those who gave me the gift of life and because they align with my own spiritual practices and values.
But in my study of death, I have learned that fearing death is what tempts it most. And of course, we all have our moments of fearing death, fearing the loss of love and all we hold dear.
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Early in the third trimester, boxes piled high in the garage from our big move and two feet of snow on the ground, I let Lady out to use the bathroom. Usually when it’s cold and snowy, she goes out and comes right back in.
But she was taking longer than normal.
Vigilance piqued, I looked out the window just in time to see a sun-dappled blur of fur dart from the road back towards the forest. My mind tried to make sense of what I was seeing. Coyote? But bigger and more beautiful than any I had ever seen.
Immediately I knew: Lady and the coyote had fought and the coyote had killed Lady. That is why she hadn’t come inside.
I threw on boots and a jacket and ran out into the cold. I became a tracker, smelling where the coyote had marked and looking for signs of a struggle. Was that blood in the snow?
But all was still, the sun sifting through the pines made crystals in the snow.
I tromped through the woods, desperate. Snow spilling over into my boots, out of breath, my big body not used to the quick movements I was demanding of it.
I fell to the ground and wailed: Ladyyyy.
Just as I made the decision to trudge deeper into the woods, Lady came trotting down the driveway and up the front steps, looking back at me on my knees with a mix of confusion and pity.
This moment was an example of what I refer to as Initiation.
A jolt. A shock. A moment of coming close to death.
And one that actually cost me very little.
These moments are here to inform how we live, to guide and remind us.
When we get stuck, when we see death everywhere we look and make decisions from a place of fearing that death is behind every unseeable bend in the road, this is trauma.
But when we come close to death and alchemize its lessons, it yields a life of riches.
More on alchemy soon…but I will leave you with this:
Alchemy can only happen through the body. We cannot think our way to understanding.
The secret to facing death without fear comes from connecting with a knowing that lives deep within the body and can only be known by connecting with the body: we live and we die, over and over, ad infinitum.