Death Becomes Her

Death is everywhere. It was always obviously there, but it is simply unavoidable today for so many reasons. Denial won’t hide us any longer. With this deadly, scarily contagious virus and all the terrifying deaths of Blacks and trans people lately, death is a constant topic. Going about “normal” life isn’t possible at the moment. We can’t cower under the comfortable blanket of routine and pretend like uncomfortable topics don’t exist. I don’t mind this. In the Zen center that I belong to in New York City, we discuss death all the time. During covid I have taken a number of virtual programs and classes all centering on death. What it entails, how to prepare for it practically, emotionally, and mentally, and how we want our bodies to be handled once we no longer inhabit them. In one of my classes, Living Fearlessly, we had to write our own obituaries and research the advanced directives for our respective states. In March, a cousin of mine advised me to designate my health care proxy. I didn’t know what that even meant at the time. I did choose one, spoke to him about it, and had him sign all the paperwork with his family as witnesses a few weeks ago. One of my lockdown summer goals is to finalize all of my death plans, and put together my dharma box containing all my instructions and desires. I’ll make copies to give to close friends. I don’t plan on going anywhere for a very long time, but if this pandemic has taught us anything it’s that only uncertainty is certain.

As I’ve written in the past, one of the gnawings of my first inner shift began years ago, unbeknownst to me, when every eulogy sounded the same to me at the funerals I attended. It was shocking; different people all going down with the same trite, depressingly unoriginal sentiments. It truly terrified me; would this drivel be said at my funeral too?? Would anyone, even those claiming to be closest to me, really know what to say about me in a eulogy?? What kind of lives are being “lived” if the bodies of the deceased are being laid to rest with a template of the blandest farewell speech imaginable? I was gripped with fear about this and I didn’t see a way out of that at the time. Where I sit now, I no longer have this fear. I have reworked and reshaped my life to one that’s true and authentic to my soul. My life keeps widening as my heart and mind expand as well. I have created a life that’s interesting and unique, one that should easily produce a kick ass eulogy. One of my friends told me last week that she hopes she goes before me so that I can speak at her funeral. I’m actually a real speech snob. I’m going to assign my eulogizers so that my funeral isn’t filled with lame, boring speeches that have people checking their watches. Who knows if I’ll hear it, but this is part of arranging how you want to be memorialized. You get to make these decisions. I get to make these decisions. It feels like such a loving process, a way to honor myself and my deepest spiritual needs. The more I am taught by my teachers to befriend death, the less scary it feels. Since the opposite of fear is love, that means that this process naturally comes to feel loving and caring towards myself. Death has morphed from being this horrible thing that I must avoid at all costs, to this inevitable truth that I can meet with grace. I mean, we all know it’s coming yet we refuse to deal with it in a healthy way. One of my teachers put it like this, “ death makes life sparkly and golden. It reminds us how magnificent this life is. Death teaches us how to live.”  I love how she put this, so elegantly and gracefully. And it’s true. The more fully I can approach death, the more fully I approach actual life. It’s a reminder to make each moment full and alive. No one expects all their moments to be happy, that’s impossible. But the goal is to see how we can dive deeper into each moment and meet it and its contents with honesty and appreciation. To ride each breath, to savor each sip, to see each lesson. To live well is to love well. To do both of those is to die well. And who doesn’t want to do that?

I have concluded that it’s ok if I don’t want to be laid to rest in a typical Jewish cemetery. That if I get a tattoo I won’t be rejected by said cemetery (that’s a farce, btw. Many Israelis are inked to the max and are accepted just fine). I have concluded it’s ok to have my funeral list written out, so that only those close to me or that I like can attend. I don’t need fake crocodile tears from abusive relatives or neighbors who didn’t like me while I was alive. I have concluded that it’s ok if my burial ceremony isn’t conducted by a rabbi who doesn’t know me. No rules, no givens, all choice. Loving action directed inward is what becomes loving action directed outward to those around us. Respecting our choices allows us to respect the choices of others. How can we be of service to others leaving this life when we can’t do that for ourselves?

I made my death shroud for my final Zen Foundations program project. It took ten hours, a California king size sheet, and fabric markers. I had to present it to my class and teachers. It wound up being a sort of spiritual road map for my kids, full Of teachings, quotes, and knowledge that changed my life. Things I’ve learned that cracked open my heart and soul, all leading to a richer life that I’m so proud of. I learned these things on my own, guided by Source to so many wonderful teachers over the years. I hope I have many decades to add to my shroud, and that I’ll leave my children and loved ones with this treasure trove of information and inspiration. At that point I’ll just be a messenger. The way we live determines what our message is, both to ourselves and to those we leave behind in human form. We have only this chance to create our message and live by it. One birth, one death. Billions of choices and chances in between. How we live really, really matters. We aren’t here to coast and kill time. We are here to accomplish and enhance. To contribute, create, support, and enrich. To love, laugh, and have a kick ass time doing it. We have no choice in death, but we do in how we approach it. If we can embrace it, then we can embrace anything.