One of the
things immediately rising to the surface, in the wake of my sister-in-law’s
death, is the question of what it means to live well. It is easy to wax
sentimental regarding such matters. I hear a lot of talk about the importance
of being happy, living in the moment etc., but what I sense in this that
troubles me, is that some of these notions seem to have their foundation in
escapist-type fantasies that want to push the dark more bitter aspects of life
further into the dark.
Perhaps this can be seen as a wise course of action in the short term. However, I think that in the long term these dissonant bits need to be artfully folded into one’s life, which is to say I think it is a mistake to reject them outright. I believe they have value and therefore a place in our lives. In any case, rejecting them doesn’t make them go away.
Perhaps this can be seen as a wise course of action in the short term. However, I think that in the long term these dissonant bits need to be artfully folded into one’s life, which is to say I think it is a mistake to reject them outright. I believe they have value and therefore a place in our lives. In any case, rejecting them doesn’t make them go away.
From my
perspective, the value of a dark experience is that it has the power to humble
us, to widen our perspectives, to take us both deeper inside the mystery of our
own being/non-being and conduct us further into appreciating the depth and
complexity of those who surround us.
A difficult experience challenges our, often, naive, self-serving worldview, polishes our empathy and, therefore holds the potential to make us, in the best sense, more fully human. We may become a little softer, a little more open, a little less judgmental, a little less stupid, and thus, a little wiser and more pleasant to be around.
A difficult experience challenges our, often, naive, self-serving worldview, polishes our empathy and, therefore holds the potential to make us, in the best sense, more fully human. We may become a little softer, a little more open, a little less judgmental, a little less stupid, and thus, a little wiser and more pleasant to be around.
Presently I am
taking time to relax and give my wearied heart a little respite from all the
intensity of the previous 5 or 6 weeks. What I find particularly soothing are
all the small things: the musty, sweet perfume of decaying fall foliage, gentle
breezes, and mud that conjures memories of my childhood.
The basic nature of these experiences is part of what makes them so nurturing I think. They are straightforward, undemanding and authentic—full of the whole continuum of life-death-life.
The basic nature of these experiences is part of what makes them so nurturing I think. They are straightforward, undemanding and authentic—full of the whole continuum of life-death-life.
There is a little
hollow place in my life that Miho used to occupy and I sense it in all its
resounding emptiness. It is simply a little lonelier without her here. But it
will serve no useful end to mire myself down too much in the loss, it is what
it is, and life beckons me on. Instead she will come along for the ride within
the confines of my heart. That is all that can be done. I live an inextricably
altered existence now.
Life and death
are not mutually exclusive entities. Somehow they are one and the same,
something I sense but don’t entirely understand.
Living well for
me therefore means that I live a life more resonant with this truth, that I
don’t bastardize death and loss, but instead recognize them as vital for
perpetuating and sustaining life.
So, let’s dance.
Let’s celebrate existence in all its bewildering, bittersweet beauty. Let’s
move further into the adventure that is our life, rather than retreat out of
fear or cynical foreboding…
Because, as the saying goes, 'it really ain't over till its over.'
Live well.
