It is snowing in March as we approach the spring equinox. There is a feeling of dissonance between what we want the seasons to be and what they are or, instead, what they are becoming. This year's autumn was more like a sunbathing southern Italian, warm, golden, and languid, versus the crisp air we are used to with grieving trees dropping burnt leaves. And, well, winter was an indistinguishable hue of gray every day. We talk about the weather constantly and discuss how we love it, hate it, and how it's changed for the worse. Each year we carry an expectation forward of what the weather is supposed to be. As global climate change quickens, we are madly inventing artificial rain clouds, building water gates, etc., to protect ways of being as we know them and have grown to depend on them.
It is interesting how we learn about evolution without contempt for change. We understand that the mountain range in Massachusetts was once part of what we now know as Africa. When we see rock cliffs embedded with crustaceans from the ocean floor, we are not enraged but rather curious at the marvel of it. We recognize and feel grief when we acknowledge the extinction of wooly mammoths, but we also don't harbor a belief that if all was "right," they would still be alive. Yet, we don't permit the future to change without guilt and resistance.
It seems a human condition to live with an existential worry of imminent death and not only for ourselves but for all of humanity. I think because we know this is a possibility and has been a reality. We know that we have already lost many other human species, some of whose DNA we still carry forward today.
On my birthday this year, I read a quote by Thoreau:
"Death is beautiful when seen to be a law, and not an accident–it is as common as life…Every blade in the field, every leaf in the forest lays down its life in its season as beautifully as it was taken up."
I think our society wrongly approaches death (and, therefore, life) by being at war with death. We fight death. Every illness campaign is a fight against it, and our campaign against climate change is also a fight. Our language is war language reflective of our mentality.
The fight for life inevitably costs us freedom of choice. Coupled with our battle against death are our strategies for safety guised as liberty. Often these safety systems become oppressive measures on the liberties upheld with rules, fines, scorn, and shame.
I wonder what would be different if we were not living with an expectation to live forever, unchanged, unharmed, and instead lived towards our death. What if we lived in ways that acknowledged that we would soon die and had this short gift of time to celebrate together?
What if each day truly was a celebration rather than an expectation?
As I age, I have had friends and family die. I have seen how facing imminent death changes people's choices, how they luxuriate in what they love and fiercely create what they want to share under fire. I have also experienced the gifts of love bestowed upon you when someone you treasure departs this life. No love is as great as that felt when the person is gone. Life is a gift to be lived and left.
Last month in my monthly Vessel newsletter, I wrote about the Furies and how Athena gave them power over the weather and childbirth, as those were areas that were beyond man's control. The Furies also were responsible for causing fury of injustice and punished people with guilt and remorse. It is interesting to live in a time when man acts as the Furies, attempting to control these natural elements and cast plagues of guilt in attempt for justice. Yet, we have not exterminated anguish over inevitable death and loss related to childbirth or natural disaster. Has childbirth improved for women today versus from the beginning of time, or has death improved? I cannot answer that like I cannot answer if we are happier or less frightened than we were thousands of years ago.
How do we change our minds to see death as a law, not an accident? How do we welcome it rather than fight and fear it? How do we live towards it and treat each day as a gift worth celebrating? How do we accept the changing weather instead of feeling angry that it's not performing predictably? How do we welcome our own changing seasons without believing that one decade was the way we should always look, feel, and be?
How do we welcome becoming different?
Lao Tzu, the ancient Taoist, said c. 500 BCE.
"A man with outward courage dares to die; a man with inner courage dares to live."
I understand this to mean that it takes courage to be present with what is, to accept what is evolving, and to live toward death. We can learn how to do this from those who gave us a glimpse with their shorter lives, luxuriating in what they loved and fiercely creating what they wanted to share with others.
Exercise: Identify three things or areas in your life you want to grow, luxuriate in, or change. Take two pieces of water color paper. On the first page choose the colors that symbolize life as it is now and paint those colors. On the second page choose the colors of what the feeling is of having your desires. On the first page, cut 28 windows with a razor blade. On the back side of these windows write at random the three wishes. Each window has one wish of the three things you want to: change, grow, and luxuriate in. Now, flip the page back to the painted side and make sure all windows are closed. Now write numbers 1-28 on the windows at random.Then attach page one to page two by gluing their sides together with both painting sides facing up.
Do: Each day of the month (you can begin whenever) you open one advent window in order.
Dare: Do one daily action towards the wish as revealed in your calendar of change.
Tell me how it went!
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