At Dusk We Think of Death
I should not have this laptop on right now. I should be sleeping. But some thing has me up typing because I don't know what I would do if I were diagnosed with a terminal cancer. All I know for sure is that I would cry. But aside from that? This is an unplanned mometo mori sort of exercise. Three out of my four grandparents transitioned through cancer. I'm thinking of cancer because of the part in The War of Art where Steven Pressfield talks about the psychologist who works with terminal cancer patients helping them navigate the end or a new beginning. A lot of times the new beginning leads to some kind of remission apparently. I don't know. I do not feel that I will be so involved in certain things. I do want to open up the spiritual coaching or whatever practice.
I see why there is a formalized practice of remembering death among the spiritual workers. In our future obsessed culture these practices are an antidote to the drivenness we live most days. And so in fall when the plants are all drying out there are remembrance festivals. Día de los Muertes, Samhein, All Hallow’s tide, whatever. Whether you are practicing reflection and gratitude for your ancestors within a set spiritual tradition or not late autumn naturally calls for us to think of what has and is passing on.
The practice of looking back 120 years from your birth is important for finding your place in the human story and offer gratitude for our ancestors and what they did to make today what it is.
I was born in 1982. So I look back to 1862. Which of my ancestors was alive and what did they do with the life they had? Who and what shaped their lives? And after them what happened that I am writing this now? It is a long story there is no time to relive it and yet there is time to remember and carry the main points.
My Ancestors lived through war, economic disaster, changes in technology and shifting attitudes toward nature. Seeing how they navigated these things and how it shapes today helps me focus on what will really matter for the future. No one will remember the color of my hair but they may remember vaguely that I lived in Texas once.
The same story repeats. There will always be poverty, exploitation, disaster, fortune, hope, joy, grief-- all of it will be over and over in it's season. We want to be completely remembered but we won’t be. We can't even remember our own past self very well. We think we don't matter unless we are known. This could be true. But what may be more important is that we have promoted a spirit of encouragement and growth when we lived.
What is the story we carry? does it accept all the complexity and beauty of life. Who before us bore that too?
Messages to the dead and as good as dead:
To the dead: Thank you for living when you did and how you did. You were not my ideal person but you did shape this world I live in. You passed on the best you could when you were aware of it and that is all we could expect.
To the missing: I don't know where you are or if you are among the breathing masses still. I miss you. If we meet again let's forgive each other. I forgive you for going please forgive me for not looking for you so diligently.
To the exile: What is the wedge between us? I don't remember it well. Can we meet on neutral ground and see a stream of reconciliation trickle between us? On our good days we were friends.
This year I honor the lives of:
Janice
Glenn
Dora
Rodrick
They were imperfect and they are mine to remember.
Links about All Hallow’s Tide:
It turns out that there are three days in the Hallow Tide. (Halloween, All Saint's day and All Soul's day.) Halloween was a preparation day for the following two. All Saint's seems to refer to the distant ancestors that have been completely purified and reclaimed and All Souls is for the more recent dead who have just begun the purification process. Well ok, for my purposes it would be the Saints are the distant dead who's connection had rippled out into the background and the Souls are the ones I actually know something of or feel a connection with.
