No Death, No Fear

I finally decided I was ready to read the last chapter of No death, No fear: Comforting Wisdom for Life by Thich Nhat Hanh. 

The chapter is entitled accompanying the dying. When I was reading this book a year ago, I knew I didn't have the strength to tackle that yet. As I now read the words, I cry, but am able to understand and accept the teachings. I was so glad to know that much of what my bother-in-law, Mike and I intuitively knew was aligned with a compassionate death. Mike especially sowed seeds of happiness by recounting stories of the life he shared with Jim. I fell asleep, for the first time in days, with the sounds of Mike telling stories of their adventures. Thich Nhat Hanh writes, "Those who are unconscious have a way to hear us if we are truly present and peaceful as we sit at their bedside." I believe this to be true.

The morning Jim died, I read to him a Buddhist prayer for the dead and dying:

Oh Buddhas and Bodhisattvas,...

Oh Compassionate Ones, you who possess
The wisdom of understanding,
The love of compassion,...
James is passing from this world to the next,
He is taking a great leap,
The light of this world has faded for him,
He has entered solitude with their karmic forces,
He has gone into a vast silence,
He is borne away by the great ocean of birth and death ..…

I also read him the 23rd Psalm from The Bible.

The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters.He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake.Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me. Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over.Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.

In No Fear, No Death, I especially like the image of birth and death as a game of hide and seek, take my hand and wave goodbye. Death is not permanent.

My friend, Tanya, a budding Buddhist, writes in her blog,

We exist in the soil, in the light and warmth of the sun, in the animals and in each other. …and this isn’t a flowery story. This is science.
I think science would agree that our bodies are made up of elements that are non-specific to being human. ... Those elements will still be here when our bodies are gone. They will become another form, giving life to something else.
When this form is gone, our bodies will be the rich soil, and water feeding the tree, and the fruit that grows from it. We will be the energy given to the life of an animal eating from it, and to its baby who drinks it’s milk. ...
So, we will never disappear into nothingness. Which also means that we haven’t come from nothing either. We have been the sun, and the minerals, and the soil, and the plants, the insects, and each animal, and person in this way. We have existed, and still do exist as every single thing.
We have lived countless lives in infinite connections. Even in this form, we are new from day to day, and from thought to thought.
And this is rebirth.
For me, I find this much more comforting than the idea of an eternal place where my soul will be stored.

I find comfort in this as well. Tomorrow we shall meet again. I have no fear.

I am still here

I had a dream one night. I was about to cross a rope bridge over a deep chasm like you see in the movies. Jim was on the other side, waiting for me. I started across to join him but lost my footing and fell. As I fell in slow motion, I rolled onto my back so I could look back up at the bridge, at my connection to Jim. As long as I could see it, I knew I could get back to it. It might take some climbing, but it was still there.

As I fell further, the bridge and Jim appeared smaller and smaller. I kept calling out, "I know you're still there!" This reassurance, that as long as I knew the bridge was there, I could get back. Back to the bridge. Back to Jim. Finally, I fell so far that the bridge couldn't be seen any longer. Yet I still called out, "I know you're still there!" Just because I couldn't see the bridge, or Jim, didn't mean they were gone. My connection remained.

As I woke, I was reassured. My perspective had just changed. No different from turning a corner and looking back over your shoulder, you can't see around the corner, but you are sure, you know whatever was there is still there. Buddhist monk Thich Nhat Hanh explains "Just because we do not perceive something, it is not correct to say it doesn’t exist."

In his book, no death, no fear, Thich Nhat Hanh explains how, after the death of his mother, he realized she lived on in him.

I opened the door and went outside. The entire hillside was bathed in moonlight. It was a hill covered with tea plants, and my hut was set behind the temple halfway up. Walking slowly in the moonlight through the rows of tea plants, I noticed my mother was still with me. She was the moonlight caressing me as she had done so often, very tenderly, very sweet... wonderful! Each time my feet touched the earth I knew my mother was there with me. I knew this body was not mine along but a living continuation of my mother and father and my grandparents and great-grandparents. Of all my ancestors. These feet that I saw as "my" feet were actually "our" feet. Together my mother and I were leaving footprints in the damp soil....

From that moment on the idea that I had lost my mother no longer existed. All I had to do was look at the palm of my hand, feel the breeze on my face or the earth under my feet to remember that my mother is always with me, available at any time.When you lost a loved one, you suffer. but if you know how to look deeply, you have a chance to realize that his or her nature is truly the nature of no birth, no death.... 

It 's like when you look at a sheet of paper and look deeply, you can see that the paper is made of trees and sunshine and earth and clouds, and even before the manifestation of the sheet of paper in this present form, you can only see the sheet of paper in the non-paper elements that existed before....

Suppose you are impressed with a particular cloud in the sky. When it is time for that cloud to become the rain you won't see that cloud anymore and you will cry. But if you know that the cloud has been transformed into the rain and the rain is calling you, "Darling, I am here, I'm here," if you have that kind of capacity of recognizing the continuation of that manifestation, you don't have to live in despair and grief. That is why for those who have lost someone who is close to him or to her I advise that they look deeply within and see that the one who was close is still there, somehow, and with the practice of deep looking they can recognize his presence very close to her.
Read more at http://www.beliefnet.com/Faiths/Buddhism/2002/09/Long-Live-Impermanence.aspx?p=3#cF9fSFKCUszLpWTA.99

I am grateful for the dream, and the grace and calm it brings me. 

Dream Sequence

For the last few nights I've been trying to dream about Jim. A few times in my life I've been able to kind of direct my dreams but it hasn't been successful in bringing Jim to my dreams. I'm just missing him and want to see him so I was hoping for a good dream, but it just hasn't manifested. So this morning I decided rather than wait for a dream I was going to do a sort of guided visualization. Here is what I saw. 

It started with Dharma in her window yelping with delight. She has a different bark for strangers than she does with people she recognizes, and I knew she recognized who was at the door. I opened the door to see Jim standing there. I fell into his arms, knowing it wasn't real, but going with it, knowing how much I needed to feel his arms encircle me. 

I hugged him and held him and held him and held him. Finally, we came inside and we sat down on the couch, our arms around each other. I wanted to sit where I could see him and feel him I just didn't want that moment to go away. There was so much to say, to ask, but all I could do was tell him how much I loved him and how much I missed him. Jim said he was always there, he was always with me, but that he couldn't stay physically here. He wanted me to know that he was always looking out for me. In life and now he would do what he could to  keep me safe. He reassured me he would always be there watching out for me.

He helped me see that he was always with me, in my heart, in my spirit, in the very air around me. Somehow I knew it was time for him to go and I just squeezed my eyes shut, not wanting to watch him go, to lose him all over again. All of a sudden light just shattered into 1 million pieces in front of my eyelids and I knew that he was gone, but that his light and the light of his love and the light of the spirit's love is around me always.

The Reason We're Here

So here is what I have been contemplating: when I look back on my life, for the most part, it's been pretty sweet.  And I can honestly say that all of the big, bad things led me to Jim...so that is good.  My miscarriage led me to New York, which was good then bad, but from that bad, I became friends with Jim and then lovers. So, is it possible that from this horribly sad thing, the death of my husband, that something better will come? Or just different?

Even though I have moments where I think this might be possible, later I cry just changing the sheets and can't imagine how anything good or better would ever possibly come from this. I don't want to imagine anything better than the love I feel for Jim.

I am at a time when I can redefine, refine, reframe the story of my life.  Who do I want to be? I want to be loving, caring, generous, adventurous and indominatable, if that is even a word.  Right now I don't feel any of those things

I was raised in a church-going family, twice on Sundays, Wednesday night Bible study and Thursday night choir practice.  There were pleasantly blurred lines between family and congregation. I was raised American Baptist, which I later learned is quite different from Conservative or Southern Baptist.  My parents were (and are) loving, welcoming, compassionate and have a daily relationship with God. When I was old enough to think for myself, I accepted Christ as my personal Lord and Savior. Over the years I learned that for me, organized religion was not my path, however I have a deep and abiding faith and spirituality. 

Years ago I sat at the bedside of a friend in his final days. We talked late into the night about why each of us are here. Kurt believed that God asked special angels to come back to Earth and live with HIV to teach us all compassion. In the middle of the night, as Kurt slept, I must've dozed off because I woke with a start with one thought in my head, Romans 13:9.

As soon as I got home, I looked up the passage in my Bible. 

The commandments, “You shall not commit adultery,” “You shall not murder,” “You shall not steal,” “You shall not covet,” and whatever other command there may be, are summed up in this one command: “Love your neighbor as yourself.” 

That was it, the answer to what is my purpose, to why are we here, to how do I respond to life's curves: the answer is love. I believe that we are put here on Earth for a purpose, and that purpose is simply to love each other. As Chrissie Hynde sang, "now the reason we're here, is to love each other, take care of each other, is to help each other, stand by each other."

Throughout our journey, I have never doubted the presence of a higher power. I have never asked, Where is God? Why me? I believe that God is here and God is everywhere. I do not believe God gave Jim cancer, anymore than God caused a 13 year-old girl to come out of tonsil surgery as brain-dead or God caused a mentally ill man to shoot up a school.  I do believe that everything we have been through in our lives prepares us for everything to come. Thich Nhat Hahn says, in Living Buddha, Living Christ, "To breathe and to know you are alive is wonderful. Because you are alive, everything is possible... Please don't waste a single moment. Every moment is an opportunity to breathe life into the Buddha, the Dharma, the Sangha (the community). Every moment  is an opportunity to manifest the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit."

"We think the point is to pass the test or to overcome the problem, but the truth is that things don't really get solved. They come together and they fall apart. Then they come together again and fall apart again. It's just like that. The healing comes from letting there be room for all of this to happen: room for grief, room for relief, for misery, for joy."

- Pema Chodron

"What we can do that takes best care of us is to trust Life completely. Our part is to 

stay right here, with the breath, paying close attention and moving in the direction 

Life guides us. In that way, we can learn all there is where we are and be ready to 

be somewhere else when that learning is complete."

- Cheri Huber

I am still learning.