Considering Death

The 18th century American polymath, writer and statesman, Benjamin Franklin famously wrote, "Nothing is certain except death and taxes." However, it is sometimes possible to be exempt from taxes, or to get a refund, but death is certain. Every living thing, including us, is mortal, and will one day, sooner or later, die.

Death is the final mystery; I blogged about this way back in 2011, here. More than twelve years later, my attitude to death remains the same. I believe we cannot know what happens after death, but we can choose to face it with courage or with fear and dread. And, being an optimist, I choose to face it with, if not courage, then at least with equanimity. As someone mutters at the beginning of a track of Pink Floyd's wonderful album Dark Side of the Moon, "I am not frightened of dying. Everyone's got to die sometime. Why should I be frightened of dying? There's no reason for it. Any time will do, I don't mind." I first heard that at the age of 13, and it had a profound effect on my attitude to death.

 (I hasten to add that I've had any bad health news, I've just been thinking about it lately - the fruits of getting older, I guess). 

When I carried out a survey of the beliefs, values and practices of contemporary British Unitarians, back in 2017 (the findings are published in Unitarians: Together in Diversity, published by the Lindsey Press) one of the questions I asked was, "What do you believe happens after we die?" And the responses were varied and fascinating: a significant minority of the respondents (19%) declared that they did not believe in life after death - that when the body dies, that's it. More than a third were open-minded about it, but were not sure what form, if any, it might take. Many of these were willing to consider such possibilities like the idea that human beings 'live on' in the memories of others; or that the soul / spirit lives on after death, perhaps as a return to God / the Source; or as life on a spiritual plane or some other form of consciousness; or in a reincarnated existence.

Many shared my own belief that it is far more important to concentrate on doing the best we can, where we are, in this life, rather than worrying overmuch over what might happen "afterwards". For me, living well is far more important. As a Unitarian, I am fortunate that I don't need to worry about where my soul might go after death, depending on my actions in this life: I believe in neither heaven nor hell as after-life concepts. As far as I'm concerned, we make our own hells, our own heavens, here and now. And, through our actions (or inactions), we can turn other people's lives into living hells, living heavens.

Yet I do believe that some part of me will be reunited with the Divine, from whence my soul came, when I was born. I find this belief comforting, and it even helps me to listen to the Divine spark within, so that I can strive to be the best person I can, here, now.

Memento Mori

Warning: may include distressing content. 

The Latin phrase, 'memento mori' means "remember that you have to die." I was reminded of it yesterday evening, when my husband and I were watching a programme presented by Alexander Armstrong, about his experiences of visiting South Korea.

(image: Wikimedia Commons)

Most of the programme was about the (to us) very weird and unusual popular culture in Seoul, but there was one segment, only a few minutes long, when he went out into the countryside to participate in a death meditation. Which was absolutely fascinating and very powerful. He was in this beautiful green space, with mature trees all around, to meditate on death. He obviously had no idea what was coming.

This is what I remember about it: at first, the meditation master talked about Armstrong's life - how would he feel if he knew it was coming to an end. Then he took him to a nearby space which had rows of open, empty coffins in it. They walked along one row, and came to one which had an A4 photo of Armstrong propped up in it.

And I saw Armstrong's face change. Suddenly, this was serious, important. The meditation master dressed him in a pale yellow garment to represent a shroud, and invited him to sit in the coffin. Then he asked him questions about his life - what he was proudest of, what he had achieved, did he have any regrets etc. I could tell Armstrong was finding it hard to think about this stuff, while sitting in a coffin with his own photo in it.

Then the meditation master told him to lie down in the coffin. And put the lid on top of him, then banged on it several times with a wooden mallet, as though he was nailing it down. This freaked both Maz and I out - we agreed that we could never have undergone it.

A short while later, the meditation master opened the lie and told Armstrong that he had been reborn, and asked what he would do with his new life. 

Armstrong's response was something like, "It's all about love." I don't think he will ever forget that experience. I'm sure I wouldn't. A real tipping point in his life - a call to action, to examine one's life *now* before it is too late.

It was such a powerful ritual.

The last mystery

Yesterday afternoon, I came back from a convivial Christmas lunch with a friend, and opened my e-mails, to find an e-mail on my computer from another friend to say that a mutual friend had committed suicide the previous night, having left him a suicide e-mail, which he had opened that morning. It was such a shock – I saw her (the friend who has died) last month, and she seemed fine – up and quite content with her life, full of plans for the future.

Mourning flower by Solemn Hypnotic

And now she has gone. Such a waste.

It made me think about how little we know about what is really going on inside other people's heads and hearts. I am comforted by some wise words by Rev. Arthur Stewart::

"For some, living involves no obvious self-conflict; while for others, there is deep inner stress. We realise we are deeply affected by those who have struggles; and more so by those who, in their aloneness, could not see a chance of winning. For it is from these last that we shall learn in the days to come, to labour more earnestly, and to share with one another our common stores of beauty, joy and love."

I mourn for the lost possibilities of my friend's life - so much that could have been accomplished, that will not now be. And for the friends and family left behind, who must now come to terms with a life that does not contain her. Let us pray for the strength to move forward in wholeness. A prayer by Rev. Michael Dadson fits what I want to say:

"Spirit of Life and Hope and Love, we find ourselves today in the presence of unfathomable mystery,
As with humble hearts we bow before the veil which has fallen between us and one whom we have known and loved.
Help us not to fear - nor to surrender ourselves to grief alone.
Help us to remember that greater than sorrow is love, which endures through pain and conquers grief. Love can bind all hearts in bonds of fellowship and courage; they who love unselfishly face even the depths with courage, for their strength is the strength of many and their courage rests upon the love of friends.
Let us open our hearts now - all the windows of our hearts - in search of the inner resources we shall need, if we are to face life's varied experiences of joy and sorrow.
At this time when ties of friendship and kinship have been broken, we seek the peace of acceptance.
May the words, the feelings, and the remembrances we share in these quiet moments strengthen us each in our grief, and all in our support, one for another.
Amen"

May she rest in peace.