When You Are A Witness

 I have witnessed many people leave their bodies at death. Technically, I do not see souls--or any special effects of spirit--other than the body releasing its grip on this thing we call life. But I believe in its exit. Consistent with Unity teaching, Unity minister, Ellen Debenport, described our four essential layers of existence as being like 'Russian nesting dolls,':  (the smallest) the body+the ego+the soul+Spirit (our God essence.) The physical body and the mental ego are left behind at death, as our individualized, eternal conciousness continues its journey. 

Respectfully, I realize this set of beliefs is not universally accepted, but I hope you will continue reading. Readers may wish to further explore this topic of 'nonlocal consciousness' (the continuity of consciousness after physical death) in The Immortal Mind: Science and the Continuity of Consciousness beyond the Brain by Ervin Laszlo, with Anthony Peake.

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Perhaps you have read accounts of NDE (Near Death Experience) and can envision with me, the shift that occurs in consciousness when it is free of the body. Raymond Moody brought this to wider awareness in his 1975 book, Life After Life. It is through NDE accounts that we can even glean what occurs at death and yet, someday, each of us will have this ultimate mortal experience. 

Midday on March 19, 2022, my husband and I were driving to an event in Tucson and came upon an accident scene. Despite my professional experience, it shook me up. Now, one month later, I have found some peace and understanding. The circumstances remain very sad and more should be done to ensure cycling is a safe recreational experience. 

Witness

I am lying on the side of the road at least 

my body is. 

Is that my wife too

A few yards west

Lying on the side of the road?

There is my beautiful

full carbon Vitesse EVO

with its sexy stiffness

Its four grand float fantasy frame

Oddly crumpled near the sheriff’s suv.

I am lying on the side of the road at least

My body is.

And yes my beautiful young wife

Lies beneath a tarp 

As do I and yet

 she now takes my hand saying:

Cookie

Looks like our ride is over.

My beautiful wife

My beautiful cycle

oh my oh my oh my

Everything, simply everything

Is beautiful.

And what do you know

I feel no concern that

the dog is waiting for her midday treat or

I’ll be a no-show at choir rehearsal or

The gas bill still needs a stamp or

I wore yesterday’s underwear again today.

‘Aha!’ hardly begins to explain

What I feel see hear know

This joy-peace without emotion

This radiance without glare

This vibrance without clamor

This knowing without quest or question

All this all this all this.

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In memory of Kenneth and Gretchen Cook

Cyclists killed March 19, 2022, Tucson AZ 

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Thank you for caring and sharing...and please:

Share the road!

 

Was It a Peaceful Death? Opening the Door to Healing Conversation

The everywhere-ness of life

Source: Image © Michael Jastremski / 2014-04-28

Not long ago, a friend known for her goodhearted nature confided to me that a member of her church had lost a family member; it was announced to the congregation during the routine list of meetings, fundraisers, and children's activities. "Later that week, I saw her in the grocery store, and felt tongue-tied to say anything. I didn't want to upset her." This hesitancy is very common, I explained to my friend. But I assured her that a brief acknowledgement like "I was sorry to hear the news of your dad's death," has great value. I also explained that feelings of grief reside with the grieving: caring remarks do not cause grief.

When I learn of a death during a conversation 

Feather in bush
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I like to ask questions that immediately inform the family member that I am not afraid to talk about death. I want them to lower the social barrier they've learned to quickly erect; to understand that I care about their experience with this crucial moment of our humanity.

Before you ask a question

You too, can reverence this deeply moving experience by offering cues of invitation. But first, be aware of the situational moment! Are you or the bereaved in a hurry or obviously on the way somewhere? Have you met during a social occasion that dictates a light or celebratory mood? How much privacy do you have? Most importantly, tune into the person who had the loss. Something has prompted her to share 'my husband died in December;" so your compassionate interest certainly begins with "I'm so sorry. How are you [and your family] doing?" 

As you tune into responses and weigh the situational moment, you will know whether to quickly conclude with a hand on a shoulder, a hug, a suggestion to soon meet for coffee or a walk. If you are fortunate to sense the right blend of privacy and interest, you may begin asking gentle questions.

Begin with one question 

The Condolence Coach is not handing out free passes for nosiness. You do not have the right to pry, request medical details, financial arrangements, or confessions of grief's darkest moments. If you do not know the decedent's name, do ask, and as questions are used, include the person's name!

If the death occurred due to tragic or criminal circumstances

Compassionate interest begins by giving the bereaved a moment of control. Your one question should be: "Do you want to tell me about [it] [name]?" 

If the death was of natural causes such as advanced age, disease

Compassionate interest begins by acknowledging mortality. Your one question may be: "Was it a peaceful death?"

I follow up by asking, "Did you use hospice?"  Thankfully, end of life support has become the norm, with hospice providers routinely referred. Hospice is a specialized type of care that may address the patient's physical, emotional, social and spiritual needs; often, many support services extend to family caregivers. It can be comforting for a grieving person to speak about good end of life care because it acknowledges that something went right: one of the many caregiving and health advocacy decisions felt like TLC-- tender, loving, care.

If there was a hospice used, here are a couple followup questions:

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• What did you think of the hospice? 
• Which services or staff did you find most helpful?

Remember that compassionate interest and opening the door to healing conversation should not feel like an interview. At all times, allow the bereaved person to be in control. Be sensitive to cues of facial expressions, body language. Keep it relaxed and simple. The conversation will come to a natural conclusion like water filters into the ground at the end of a creekbed.

Be thankful

As the conversation ends, express gratitude for the trust and sharing you've been given. "Thank you for sharing this with me" is sufficient. Consider a warm handshake or pat on the shoulder--certainly a hug, if appropriate.

Learn more! Click on the topic links throughout this post to read other relevant Condolence Coach posts!

Thank you for caring!

Responding to Tragedy: A Million Pieces of Grief

Explosive grief

Mitzi Cowell, Facebook

I was enjoying Tucson's Smart Blues guitarist Mitzi Cowell, when these lyrics grabbed me:

"Sometimes I feel like I've been blown into a million pieces, and every once in a while, I find one."

There is a long list of events and situations that have such explosive power; grief can certainly be one of them. When the familiar explodes apart by a sudden tragic event, the early moments vibrate with absolute change.

Consider this apt description by Kirsti M. Dyer, M.D.,M.S. on her website Journey of Hearts:

"A sudden tragic event shatters our sense of order and thrusts us into a world forever changed. Survivors of sudden loss may experience a greater sense of vulnerability and heightened anxiety. The safe world we once knew, no longer exists. We fear for ourselves, our family and friends. Survivors can become overwhelmingly preoccupied with thoughts that such a random act of violence might happen again."  [Source]

We may see tragedy on an intimate scale--someone you know commits suicide; and again on break-the-scale proportions of terrorist acts.

Condolence after terrorism

I was recently asked, "I feel badly about the Brussels bombings, but who should I write to?"
I advised that, if you do not have a personal connection with someone stricken by the tragedy, you may, after a little research, send words of support to an aid organization actively responding to the affected community. The condolence response for a tragedy that shakes the world can also take on symbolic proportions:

• Performing acts of kindness or peacemaking where you live or work.
• Sending a donation of goods or money to a relief organization.
• Add your voice to social media campaigns that denounce violence, promote conflict resolution, or improve lives.

However you respond, respect the power of your own voice; speak (or write) from your heart. Be true to your outrage, sadness, despair...and desire to drive change. This is the nature of a truly compassionate response:  sharing your impassioned self with others.

Hope and recovery

Mitzi Cowell's lyrics include the beacon of hope, "every once in a while, I find one [a piece.]" The recovery of the familiar, piece by piece, is often a startling, bittersweet experience. The piece may have its original proportions, but recovery has embedded new lenses on the eyes of the grieving person. Nothing will ever be the same, yet the found piece "fertilizes" the soul, feeding growth, allowing a scar to toughen the once-raw wound. What can you do to nurture hope?

• Share good memories of when things were "in one piece":  a story, a thought, an old photo, a song
• Encourage expression: be a listener, give a condolence gift such as a journal, or art supplies for a memory box
• Offer time honored symbols of hope: a plant or sapling, seeds for a garden, a candle, images of a butterfly or sunrise
• Stay in touch:  a person recovering from tragedy must walk a long road--most of it alone because companions tire and drop off. You don't have to be a saint or a social worker, but be the person who stays in touch with an occasional note or email, a shared cup of coffee, a thinking-of-you item left at a front door or office desk.

Thank you for caring!