Looking At Death

Hugging my friend, the only words that could come from my mouth naturally were, "I'm so sorry." The pain was visible on her face as she said, "I'm not handling this very well." My reply: "Who would?" We embraced, standing among the others who had also come to express their condolences at the funeral home. My friend's son died unexpectedly last weekend.

Contemplating my friend's loss, I have been sad all day. The "whys" are incessant. Why my friend's son? Why the young and vibrant when there are other's begging to die? Why am I so sad when I don't even know the young man? Why? Why? Why? Why, a fool's question that leads to a number of theories, none of which really bring any peace. So what if I ask a different question, "What is it for?"

What is death for, anybody's death?

Death is the trump card of deception, used to prove to me that I am a body. It is very difficult to claim my spiritual identity when the heart feels as if it has been ripped from the chest. But does that emotional pain prove that I am a body? No, it simply proves that I am emotionally attached to the body, attached because there seems to be a part of me that believes I am the body, and therefore, believes that my loved ones are also bodies.

And is that true, when the body is gone, the Being is gone? No, not true. My loved one is certainly not gone from my heart and mind, in fact, will always live in my heart and mind. Admittedly, I can not think of my loved one without recalling the physical image. But on the other hand, I can look at that same physical image, lying in a casket, and KNOW that the Being I love is NOT there. S/He is not there!

The physical image is nothing without the Being to animate it. There is nothing within me that confirms a body is necessary for me to exist, or that a physical body is necessary for you to exist. We do not exist because of our bodies. We exist because of our Source. And our Source is not a body.

I love the beginning of THE PROPHET by Kahlil Gibran. And as I hold these words in my mind through the following weeks, may my friend be comforted by them, for we share the same mind:

"Your children are not your children. They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itSelf. They come through you, but not from you. And though they are with you, yet they belong not to you.... You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth.... Let your bending in the Archer's hand be for gladness.... For even as He loves the arrow that flies, so He loves also the bow that is stable."

As for me,
I choose to love because it is my nature to love.
I choose to love my human experience, but not be confused by it.
I choose to remember that I am not a body, nor are you.
I choose to love you in or out of a body.
I choose to remember that our love is eternal.
I choose to remember that Love is Who we are, regardless of behavior.
I choose to remember all this for you, in your moments of forgetfulness.
Will you choose the same for me?


peace always