sunrise
This is a tender post. Over the last few years, I’ve started to reconcile my fear of others dear to me dying. I used to be terrified of my parents dying. My dad remembers when I was in middle school and we were traveling with my soccer team to a tournament in North Carolina. My dad was getting dressed and I saw gray hair on his chest (he was all of 40 or so!). “Dad!” I cried with tears streaming down my face, “You are dying!”
Ever since I can remember, I had been scared of my parents dying. Past life stuff, stuff from this life…doesn’t matter the source, really. All I know is that the fear of them dying kept me frozen. It kept me from living. It made me hold back. In most of my relationships.
That fear is losing its grip on me. Little by little. And oddly enough, this comes at a time when my parents are aging. Dad retires this month.
I have always believed in a Divine presence. I’ve never needed to “know” what “comes after death” in this lifetime. I do not think ANY one religion has the monopoly on truth when it comes to “the after-life.” I have always just known that whatever happens, it has to be lovely. And gentle. It’s home.
But we can know something and still not be “healed.” Information — in the form of a thought, knowledge, or even a cognitive belief — informs. It doesn’t heal.
Healing happens in our bodies. It is here, in our cells, in our tissues, in our nervous systems, in our BODIES that we hold all our memories, experiences, interactions. It is in our bodies that we hold the fears (and joys) that arise out of those experiences. So, it is IN THE BODY where we “go” to heal these tender wounds.
How?
Noticing what arises when we become fearful. Noticing the sensations that arise. Breathing. Allowing. Holding each image that arises with gentleness, as though we were holding a small child. Giving it all a lot of spaciousness. Connecting to our hearts. Allowing the body to do what it needs to do.
Mindfulness. Radical acceptance. Spaciousness. Gentleness.
Doing very little.
These are healing balm. This is how any fear dissolves.
It’s not through analyzing our fears or dissecting them. It’s feeling them in our bodies. And letting the body’s innate wisdom to do what it needs to do.
Our mainstream culture fears death. We are “sold” every day on ways to preserve and hang on to youth. But this keeps us in denial that we will all meet death. You, me, those dear to us. We will all meet death.
Instead of being frozen with fear, I find that I am thawing out. I am beginning to LIVE this one precious, wild life, with total clarity that death will meet me some day.
And I hope that my last breath is the same as this one I take right now: full of gratitude and true contentment. I hope that I have lived a life of being ALIVE and tender. I hope I have followed the delights of my heart with no regrets…surrendering and “birthing” into Home.
Lisa A. McCrohan
May 31, 2012 @ 14:29:11
How inspiring this is. I have similar fears; the story from my childhood that I always think of, which is more a pattern than a single story, is that I used to insist that my parents’ last words to me be “I love you,” whether they were leaving for an hour or a week. In case they died before I saw them again. This strikes me now as so deeply sorrowful and scared coming from a young child. But it was what I wanted. And now I watch them actually aging and I feel fear. You inspire me to try to let go of that, at least a little bit. Thank you. xox
Jun 01, 2012 @ 12:20:39
Oh Lindsey. I so read your words here n resonate with them. I hear you…how this was more a pattern than a singular event. How this may seem sorrow filled. It also speaks of how deeply you love n intuit things n are aware n have been aware of the fragility of life. You have written about this often…n I think seeing deeply in to life is a gift u have. This speaks of ur deeeep regard for life.
Jun 01, 2012 @ 11:00:57
What an amazing writer you are Lisa. Every time you have a new post I am eager to read, for I know you will help my heart feel and heal. Your concluding comment of ‘birthing into Home’ blew me away… quietly saying aloud: Wow. This is an incredible post, and I look forward to re-reading it many times. Bless your wise and beautiful heart! With much gratitude and love for you, your friend Gina
Jun 01, 2012 @ 12:19:57
Gina. I am sitting here in the car as Brian drives n the kiddos are bugging each other in the backseat on our way to grandpa n grandma”"‘s. N I am just so moved by our spirit. You have this way of wholeheartedly embracing others. You have this way of easily befriending. You so live from a lightness n openness n desire to connect. I am moved by this because although I am an extrovert I can be a bit tenderly reserved, holding back a bit. This is being called to shift within me. Your “easily embracing n reaching out” heart inspires me. I am so thrilled that we met!!!
Jun 01, 2012 @ 18:39:28
It is my pleasure to nominate you for the Commentator’s Award, for all you do to create a blogospheric community with your thoughtful, generous comments.
If you wish to accept, simply follow the guidelines posted here:
http://erranttranscendentalist.wordpress.com/2012/06/01/gratitude-for-the-commentator-award/
Jun 02, 2012 @ 16:51:50
“But we can know something and still not be “healed.”” Thank you for saying that Lisa. I feel so guilty when I still hurt from something I thought I let go and made peace with.
I used to be terrified of the idea of my parents dying. I used to visit their bed at least 4 times per night just to check if they are breathing, and if I don’t feel the chest moving, i would just wake them up.
Jun 03, 2012 @ 12:52:09
Nikky, I hear you. Yes, things that we carry with us…they can be with us forever. And that’s ok. We just change our relationship to them. I have noticed how it’s not really “resolving” or totally “dissolving” (in this case) any hurt. It’s always still there. BUUUUT, it blooms into something else. Into compassion. This is what I’ve noticed.