Walking the Wall

I used to be obsessed with death, cheating death or God or whatever
force or agent might be trying to take my son from me when he was
little and very ill was an all consuming enterprise. Before that I was
obsessed with death as a young person because late at night when the
house was quiet and I had to think of all the many real and imagined
sins I had committed that day or month–I was always certain that I had
finally crossed the line
that would make God remove his protection and allow someone to sneak
into my room and kill me. Yes,  I had a very overactive
imagination and a very strict religious upbringing. In the latter case
I was terrified to die, in the former, I was afraid of loosing that
which was precious to me. In both situations, the driving force behind
all my emotions was fear. Why is it that in the Western world we have
such a fear of death? We struggle against it, we don’t want to talk
about it, we lie to ourselves and to others to avoid the pain of it
even when it is a given for every person who is alive.

My family and I watched Finding Neverland the other night. This
movie is an absolutely beautiful movie (irregardless of how accurate it
may or may not be–don’t continue reading if you don’t want some major
plot lines revealed). As a side note, Terry Windling from Endicott
Studios has an excellent article on J.M. Barrie.
While the children were upset and hurt by the loss of first one parent
and then the other, it seemed that a great deal of added pain was given
to them by the network of lies set up around them in order to “protect”
them from the truth that their parents were dying–all because death
was not something society talked about openly.   This movie
ended up being very uncomfortable for my son (who serious health
conditions) but was good and healthy (I feel) because it opened up a
discussion about death.Dr. Melvin L. Morse wrote in his article on Near Death Experiences that
“death has become taboo, medicalized, and a defeat for patient and
physician alike,” something to be feared, but not discussed.We
are very open about these things and try to keep communication about
fears open to mitigate any stress about them. My son is very interested
right now, in the near death experiences of children, figuring they
have the most concrete information about the subject. I felt a
breakthrough, in this particular discussion of death (one of many) in
both of my children’s attitude once we talked for awhile, I could
almost see a sense of relief just to be able to put it all on the
table. They wondered about what it felt like, what it was like to be
dead, and even though in the end, the final “answer” came down to “we
don’t know and won’t know until we’re actually dead,” there was a
noticeable sense of peace just to vocalize their fears and questions.

I don’t know when I stopped being afraid of dying or death, I think
I used up my quota for fear and one day it was just gone, dried
up, maxed out–finished. I have fears about how
I’m going to die–like anyone else, I don’t want to be in pain or have
it drag on for a long time–but I’m not afraid of being dead. Its just
another step, and whether that step moves me on to another life,
another plane of existence, or into nothingness–it isn’t frightening.
In The Power of Myth, Joseph Campbell writes that there are many stages
in life and that once our bodies start going into decline and really
aging, the trick is to not identify yourself with your body, but
withyour consciousness–your body is only a vehicle. “If you can
identify with the consciousness, you can watch this body go like an old
car. There goes
the fender, there goes the tire, one thing after another–but its
predictable” (88).

Sure there is a sense of sadness in death, we don’t want to let go
of those we love, but it is inevitable and fighting against it is like
a pebble trying to stand against a river. If we spend time fighting it
and fearing it or wondering what happens next–then we waste the
eternity of living that we have right now. So if you find my fender
lying on the side of the road, no worries, I probably just lost it
skydiving or rock climbing or shimmying too hard in my belly dance
class or any other number of things I’m determined to enjoy while I’m
still alive.