3 November 2009
When We Don’t Speak of Death
Posted by Robin Easton under: Hobnobbin' with Robin .
This is Part Three of a five part series titled: Five Perspectives on Death. To read parts one and two of this series go to the links at the bottom of this article (under “Related Links”). Now for part three; we look at what happens “When We Don’t Speak of Death”.
The Silent but Deadly…agreement.
Most of us have joked about SBDs (Silent but Deadly) when referring to farts, but today I refer to another another type of SBD, which I’ll share through two true stories. The first story is about a woman friend who at sixty lost her husband to a sudden heart attack. I had been traveling prior to her husband’s death and returned several weeks after. When I heard about his death I thought, “Well, at least she’s had a lot of people to help her through the grief. In my mind I pictured her friends and church group gathered around her while she cried, shared stories and slowly adjusted to her loss.
When I arrived home I went to visit my friend. She was pleased to see me, but looked like thin glass about to shatter. I was compelled to open my arms and hold her. While she cried I said, “This has to be the hardest thing you’ve endured. Come sit and tell me about your loss. I’ll listen.” She slumped into a chair and between sobs said, “He has been dead a month and you are the first person to talk to me like this. No one asks what I feel or if I miss him. They even avoid mentioning his name.” Shocked, I stammered, “But what about your friends at the church, your family…someone?” Bewildered she said, “No, no one says anything other than to remind me that I had forty good years with him. Or they say they’re sorry for my loss and then change the subject.”
I could hardly believe what I was hearing. I knew many of the people she knew and they were all good people, kind people, and most of them much closer to her than I was. She is such a kind soul, so why weren’t they inviting her to share her feelings? It hit me she’d gone a month without sharing what she felt. I reached out a hand and said, “I want to know what it’s like for you to lose him. What was it about him you love most? What kind of man was he? Let’s talk woman to woman.” And we did.
With each story she shared she became more animated. She laughed, cried, and then sobbed great gulping sobs until she calmed to a deep peace. She then told me one key thing, which I never forgot. She said, “Worse than losing my husband is that everyone tiptoes around me. All of a sudden I am more isolated than I’ve ever been in my life. I’ve wanted to go to church and scream at my friends, END THE SILENCE. I thought I’d die from losing my husband, but if no one can handle me talking about death, I will die.”
Story Two – The Party is Over
Another friend of mine whom I’d only met a couple of times when he lost his child (for privacy reasons I will not state how). Since I didn’t know this man well and had never met his child I didn’t attended the funeral. But over the days I was unable to get either of them out of my mind. Something begged me to call the dad. However another part of me said, “Who am I to call and see if he’s okay. He has tons of close friends. He is hardly going to need me, let alone want to talk with someone he doesn’t know.
Blessedly I called him…just because my heart told me to. This man was immediately open to me and seemed hugely relieved that I had called. When I asked how he was coping and did he have someone to talk to, he broke down and told me what it was like to lose his child. We talked and cried and I never forgot what he said when I asked about his friends and the people at his church. He said, “Once the funeral was over, that was it. The party was over and everyone went home. Business as usual. Nobody mentions it anymore. I’ve been so alone with my grief. Until you called I didn’t know if I’d make it.” Again, I was stunned. We remained lifelong friends.
What Did I Learn?
When we don’t speak of death we not only isolate the person who has suffered loss, but we isolate ourselves from Life. By asking both these people how they were holding up, by inviting then to share their memories, tears, joy, anger, and laughter, my life was made infinitely richer. In each case I touched the Divine. I was privileged to be part of the mystery of Life and Death. In the end I saw ONLY Life. By letting their experiences flow through me I touched something so profound that it became part of me and changed me forever. I was made more vast and learned to trust my intuition. I touched the great wellspring of human courage, and was brought closer to my own humanity, all of humanity. More surprisingly, I was brought closer to LIFE…not death.
Next week: we will explore embracing “Death as an Adviser”.
Love,
Robin
Related Articles:
Through My Mother’s Eyes
When I Die I Want…
This Site: © Robin Easton
Website: http://www.nakedineden.com
Blog: http://nakedineden.com/nakedinedenblog/
84 Comments so far...
Jonathan - Advanced Life Skills Says:
3 November 2009 at 3:47 pm.
When my grandmother died, my wife and I were with her. It was an incredible experience, and we felt enriched by it. She was 93 and totally lucid. She had so much control over her whole being that she did not die until she gave her body permission to shut down. Her last days were very special, and we count it as a blessing to have been there with her. Her’s was a life well lived and she died with dignity.
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Robin Says:
3 November 2009 at 4:23 pm.
Hi Robin – as you know, I am into physical immortality, where I think we have a choice about whether we experience physical death or not (we can evolve without our bodies dying). I have found over the years that I find it very easy to talk to people who are close to death in any way (their’s or someone else’s) – I do think they have found this very helpful, like you have experienced, and I think it is because I am not afraid of death.
For example, one friend who was a few days away from dying of AIDS kept saying “you are not afraid”, and how I was the only person from “the old crowd” who still had anything to do with him. My partner and I have a friend who is enduring a very painful and life-threatening situation at present, and when we were talking to her recently she said “I feel calm when I talk to you”.
It sounds wonderful the way you are helping people to allow their feelings flow!
- R
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Robin Easton Reply:
November 5th, 2009 at 9:31 am
Dear Robin, What an honor to see you here. I just loved this comment. As you know how I feel also about physical immortality…and may touch on that in the last chapter of this series. I highly respect and value your ability to live in such an expansive way. Reading your insights here made me consciously realize that, yes, it is the lack of fear of death that also allows me to be so open about it. I feel no fear whatsoever in talking about death with someone. In fact, as I state in this post, I feel closer to Life. —Also, Robin, you give SUCH a massive life-altering gift when you can be with these people and feel no fear. For them to experience your total trust and peace just sets them free. They touch the Divine in living form and feel so peaceful and SAFE. What an enormous gift you give others. It makes me elated just thinking about it. Keep being you…always.
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Evita Says:
3 November 2009 at 4:32 pm.
Hello Robin
My goodness what powerful two stories.
I have to tell you I was a little shocked too when you wrote that no one had talked to them the way you did. Could it be that we really try to ignore death that much?
Don’t answer… I know we do. Everyone seems so uncomfortable with it, and you know what, I have to be honest – it wasn’t that long ago that I was one of them. No one ever spoke of it and I didn’t want to either. I had no idea what to say and I think that is how most people feel.
When someone dies in someone’s life, we tip toe around that person trying not to say the “wrong” thing and instead we end up not say anything. Kind of sad if you ask me…. The most we can muster out is something about our “condolences” and then silence…
So this post of yours is so good as it opens the doors for us to to speak about death and shows many of us that there IS another way.
You know I can’t help thinking too that this whole silence also stems from the fact that we have just made death into such a horrible thing in society – but it is part of life indeed! Not only that it is our gate way for returning home and how can that be bad?
You know me and my husband often say – a death should be celebrated much like birth. In birth the person wasn’t with us and now is – in death the person was with us and now isn’t – both came from and go to the same sacred space of spirit. It is nothing more than a passing from one state to the other.
I am not undermining that we will “miss” the person in our lives – but death is not a tragedy in any way, and I think it is time we start seeing it in a new light – in a light of love, not gloom and darkness.
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Robin Easton Reply:
November 5th, 2009 at 10:07 am
Dear Evita, reading this made me think how in so many indigenous cultures death IS talked about, sometimes even acted out in dances and ceremonies and grief is openly expressed as a form of celebration. In fact to grieve a loss or “the dead” is to HONOR the dead.
I have witnessed that when people can’t openly grieve, then the energy of grief often turns into deep debilitating depression, as well as physical illness. Martin Prechtel speaks about this in his talk, which I think is titled “Grief and Praise”. In the rainforest far from my fellow humans I completely experienced unbridled grief and in doing so knew it as a form of praise…and very healing as well.
My culture even looks upon grief as one of “the untouchables”. We miss SO much LIFE when we don’t explore these things. We also walk around is a state of continual control of ourselves and others, which is actually very draining on the body, the spirit, the soul and mind… all of it.
I just Gooogled Martin and here is a link to download his talks and another to his site:
http://www.torrentz.com/5a9c7880973731d230d020d5556436a7954303ed
http://www.floweringmountain.com/
For me Martin’s work is very soul based, highly organic and vastly encompassing of all emotions, even laughing while crying. (That’s me.) I relate strongly to this. I’ve not read his books but have listened to his talk on “Grief and Praise” and it was the first that ever hit into how I experience grief and laughter and love and life. I think you will enjoy it, Evita. Also, my sweet friend, I treasure your comment here, its honesty, insight and openness. Thank you SO much, I treasure you.
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Trish Scott Says:
3 November 2009 at 5:18 pm.
When someone close dies and you tell everyone it was the most wonderful experience of your life, quite a few people go silent too. There is just so much fear and misunderstanding wrapped around the death thing that it IS hard to know what to say. Thanks for this article Robin. A simple, “How are you feeling” is a great start to breaking up the silence.
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Robin Easton Reply:
November 5th, 2009 at 10:19 am
Dear Trish, Yes, I agree with you; there is a almost total fear and misunderstanding around death. So many unspoken agreements about what we shouldn’t do, say or feel. And yet, I’ve found over and over that people are innately wise and that our bodies, minds and hearts can guide us if we can listen to them and let our actions be guided by our hearts. It can be very hard for some to simply let go and let their hearts take over and guide their actions, whether that’s reaching out like I did or simply expressing our emotions. When we can get out of our own way we discover that we are amazing beings capable of great wisdom and love, enough to heal the entire world.
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Miche - Serenity Hacker Says:
3 November 2009 at 5:19 pm.
Wow Robin, another absolutely inspirational post on a subject really needing more attention. I just wrote about compassion and acceptance of suffering as a part of life last night, and this post and your stories really illustrate something I was trying to get at. I’m so glad you’ve shared this. No one should have to suffer alone. I’m adding a link to this post in the link list I provided at mine. Thanks so much for sharing this. This series has been amazing… deeply thought-provoking and profoundly evocative – you touch hearts and souls. Thanks again for sharing this.
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Robin Easton Reply:
November 5th, 2009 at 10:31 am
Dear Miche, Thank you soooo much. I was at your page yesterday, but got a long distance call and will be back today. I am truly honored to be included in such a beautiful, healing and wise article. That means much to me. Your site is truly beautiful in so many ways. I find it very soothing on my soul.
NOTE TO READERS:
Here is Miche’s site: http://serenityhacker.com/
And here is the beautiful article she wrote: http://serenityhacker.com/2009/11/accepting-suffering-and-a-call-for-compassion/
I highly recommend this post and her site. So very life-filled. Powerfully enriching.
Miche, I am deeply moved by and honor your depth of wisdom and your ability to be open and embrace sooooo much. You are very vast. For those ready to let go and fall, your writing is magical.
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Accepting Suffering and A Call for Compassion Says:
3 November 2009 at 5:22 pm.
[...] When We Don’t Speak of Death by Robin at Naked In Eden Blog [...]
uberVU - social comments Says:
3 November 2009 at 6:00 pm.
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This post was mentioned on Twitter by RobinEaston: In talking about death we move closer to life. Two true stories. http://bit.ly/3eCIJo…
Tara S. Dickherber, M.Ed, CPC Says:
3 November 2009 at 6:32 pm.
Yep, people tip toe around death. It’s good to know that you listen to your heart and connect with people when they really need it. I never know what to say to a person who’s lost someone, even as a counselor I don’t have the words to make it all go away, I do listen though.
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Robin Easton Reply:
November 5th, 2009 at 10:47 am
Dear Tara, thank you for your kind words and reaffirming my heart-voice. I think listening to and acting upon the hearts dictates is often, if not always, key to living a truly rich life. Yes, we may make mistakes and fall down and even sometimes get hurt or even hurt others, but we truly come to know ourselves and Life, and not just with out minds, but with our entire being.
Also, I agree with you. I don’t think we can ever make it “go away”. I think you are right in that (at least in my culture) “making it go away” has become the focus for most of us. My experience is that it’s not something to be got rid of — although that is often what we badly want — death, loss, grief, intense emotions are something to be embraced, experienced, explored….and sometimes just “let be there” forcing us to feel out own vulnerability and inability to take control, forcing us to embrace the unknown, the abysmal mystery.
I’m not saying this is easy in the face of deep gut-ripping loss. It’s not, but oddly, for me, it helped when I realized that I couldn’t make it go away, that I had to endure and even become part of the experience. It was probably one of the hardest things I’ve ever done, I did find peace in seeing that I couldn’t control it; I think it helped speed up my process of letting go, accepting, embracing. It must be hardest for a parent losing a child. I really admire what you do and that you are there for people at times of intense grief. That takes a lot of courage and fortitude on your part. Thank you.
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Mike Foster Says:
3 November 2009 at 9:10 pm.
Robin, what a wonderful post. We need to not only speak about death when we lose someone we love, but also while we are alive and living life. Death is one of the great mysteries of life and all too often it is shoved into the corner and hoped to be forgotten, like a dirty secret. When we can begin to understand, accept, and embrace the inevitability of death, only then can we fully live life.
Keep being you.
peace,
mike
livelife365
[Reply]
Robin Easton Reply:
November 5th, 2009 at 10:53 am
Dear mike, What an insightful comment. I really like the openness of it and the part about speaking about death while we are ALIVE and living. Yes, I agree. I think it is in not speaking about it that causes even more fear. This reminds me how I write in my book about fear and how one day I realized that my greatest fear was fear of the unknown. When I look at what I feared and even talk about it, the fear level dropped drastically or altogether to nothing. That is a fantastic point you make. Also love your poetic words: “…it is shoved into the corner and hoped to be forgotten, like a dirty secret.” Beautifully worded.
And then your last line just knocks my socks off: “When we can begin to understand, accept, and embrace the inevitability of death, only then can we fully live life.” This is something that I relate to soooooo strongly as it has been my experience as well. Beautiful insights here mike. Thank you so much. And yes, Peace my friend. Always.
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Ophelia Rising Says:
3 November 2009 at 9:27 pm.
Robin, this resonates so well with me. I’m going to talk of my father, and sorry about the repetition, but he is the closest one to me I know of who has died, so I immediately think of him. I remember after his death, how we tip-toed around my Mom, no one really talking about it at all around her. I remember feeling how abnormal that felt – how strange it was to sit around and talk about everything but him. I didn’t get it. Now I realize that place of resistance must come from some kind of fear.
I recently spoke with some friends about death, and how it might affect our children. One friend was saying how she was fearful of her son going to a memorial service for his Great-Grandmother, and how she didn’t want him to go, to see his father cry about his Grandmother’s death, and that she was afraid how it might affect him, seeing the others at the service weeping and carrying on. At first, I listened with empathy, but then I began to wonder – why was she so concerned? Is not death a part of life that should be, at some point, explained? Shouldn’t it be okay for people to grieve openly, even in front of children, over someone they have lost? I’m not sure that a child would be adversely affected – in fact, with good communication, a child might be able to understand, to an extent, and realize that this is all a part of life – a beautiful part of life, I might venture to say. It’s hard and sad and wrenching and heart-breaking – but beautiful, too, in its way. It’s a lesson. A very profound one.
It’s hard to talk about death, but SO vastly important. I’m grateful for you, every day. Thank you for bringing this to my mind, and helping me, as you always do. I love you, dear sister. xoxoxo
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Robin Easton Reply:
November 5th, 2009 at 11:30 am
Dear “Ophelia”, I LOVE when you talk about your Dad. It could never be too much or too often. I have NO rules like that inside me. You are the same. In fact I think you raise an important point in the I’ve found it important often to revisit feelings and stories (memories) many times, maybe all our lives, because we are not static beings nor are our stories and memories or emotions. As well grow and evolve so do our stories and how we see events. My stories/memories have changed many times over the years as I grow and gain new perspectives. Often it is IN retelling out memories and stories that we see them in a new light. So I cherish all that you share. Why? Because it all comes from your beautiful heart. You hold nothing back and so I experience Life at it’s best, most vibrant and alive,..whatever the feelings, stories, memories or insights.To me it all beautiful Life.
Also I am really moved by your thoughts on children and death. My experience has been that children who were raised in families who talked openly about death are much more accepting of it. Not that they didn’t necessarily cry or grieve, but the parents were comfortable with their children grieving loss. The parents didn’t quickly hide” the dead puppy dog or kitten or hamster or whatever” so the kids wouldn’t see death. But instead they talked about it, cried and shared it. These kids were much more well adjusted to death, even curious and questing to understand the mysteries of Life and Death. I’ve seen kids even move toward their OWN ceremonies and beautiful beautiful expressions of love toward their lost friend or pet. These were ceremonies that weren’t initiated by the parents, but rather the child. I’ve even seen kids ask openly about death and when one parent said, “I don’t really know what death is.” The child stopped thought about it and said, “I think when we die we become part of everything. So in the flowers and trees is everyone I love. I have to treat the flowers and trees really kind.” This was a four year old. Both the mother and I were stunned. Dear Mary, I too am grateful for you every single day. You are always with me. My Wild Sister. I love you, Robin
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Michelle Says:
3 November 2009 at 10:39 pm.
I think that sometimes it is not that we avoid discussing death exactly, but, it is that we are afraid bringing in our own unresolved pain to the feet of the person who has suffered the loss. Handling any extreme emotion is training we get very little of in a culture in denial of age, never mind death.
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Robin Easton Reply:
November 5th, 2009 at 11:38 am
Dear Michelle, what a thought-filled comment. I think this is another aspect of the picture. I’m sure there are so many reasons we avoid reaching out. I found this an interesting insight. Just as someone else said; we probably fear causing more pain to someone already in grief. And/or being forced to feel our own pain when we are ill equipped to do so. I really like that you said we get little “training”. That is very true for most of us. I think living in the wild really brought Life and Death right into my face..every single day. It’s unavoidable in the wild. So in our “modern” world not only are we cut off from a very natural part of life, but then as you say we live in a culture which is in denial of age…let alone death. Thank you Michelle, I like how you just spelled this right out. You are good at that. 
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Marcel Lemieux/starflight Says:
4 November 2009 at 12:36 am.
Hello my friend..again some touching stories…beautiful…love it when the heart takes over and feelings flow..it,s good for everybody..i think most are numb to the subject of death as numb to war or famine or poverty around us…its not so much the peoples as its the media that does it…all live in a very fast lane now..go go go…so when one dies..there,s the custom, the sadness then all go home…and its very hard for those who has had the loss…we all use to be more intimate at one time about so many things….i guess its up to each individual to deal with the arising event, let his heart and his sensitivity flow again. When there is death around us, there is usually a push afterward,s for living more, enjoying every moments of life.
i have tried many times to talk about the beauties of the other side of death, for many its to far fetched, to awesome, to scary..Its easier to put your confidence in a establish context (Society)..than to explore other views…it breaks my heart that some can die of loneliness..who has killed their visions or dreams….what you did with those folks is what i would do..talk it out..recall the good and bad times, laugh, cry, and then remember that life goes on…i did work a while in a volunteer group where i would transport old folks to the bank or grocery stores..many womens ironically since the husbands had died..heard lots of stories..many still grief after many years have pass..some are waiting for death, some want to live..age stops many and fear or that evil fear that was planted in so many peoples head…so talking can do a lot of good for many…to feel that person we are with and to choose our words, for comfort or encouragement..we all can do some of that…(death), there is little info about how to deal with it..there is the odd workshop, the odd book you pick up but as for the true down to earth approach. you got to live it, live death..meaning being close to it and acknowledging it as another experience of life…… in the traditions and times gone by there use to be more awareness of it…they knew there was more…peace
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Robin Easton Reply:
November 7th, 2009 at 10:55 am
Dear Marcel. This is simply BEAUTIFUL and insightful. I agree that there was a time when people were more intimate, more responsive to to the realities of death, war, poverty, hunger and so on, and they relied more on each other, helped each other out. I once lived in a teeny rural town and I felt like I had gone back to pioneer times. I was forever taken by the SLOW pace of life and the way the people in that town embraced each other in times of need, loss, greif and hardship. They didn’t judge; they just helped in whatever way they could. No one was left “alone”.
And yes I too think media numbs people. I also think it isolates us (IF we let it). As you say, I think media (TV, computer, cars, our sheer numbers (population), stop us from sitting around for an evening sharing our stories, dreams, feelings and life experiences. It is very odd indeed that we “appear” to have more communication than ever and yet….we are often more out of touch with each other than ever before.
I was over joyed to hear that you worked with these elders, Marcel. It is SUCH a touching to story to hear your insights from being with them. They would LOVE you because, yes, you would be completely unafraid to explore death and ALL it’s possibilities. And even beyond THAT you would be unafraid of tears, laughter and love. So you would offer endless hope. You would uplift all those around you in the warmest most compassionate way, allowing for their grief and intense loss and yet you would inspire infinite hope and life. A stellar combination.
Marcel, I just cherish these lines. They are beautiful beyond any words I have. “(death), there is little info about how to deal with it..there is the odd workshop, the odd book you pick up but as for the true down to earth approach. you got to live it, live death…meaning being close to it and acknowledging it as another experience of life……”
Thank you for that Marcel. Thank you, thank you. This brought sweet tears to my eyes. It so lovely and soooo true. We have to live it, be close to it, explore it, understand it….embrace it…for “IT” really isn’t death as we are so often taught, but rather….”IT” is LIFE. It is ALL Life. Thank you my dear Soul Brother. Aaaah, you have an amazing soul.
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Mihaela Lica Says:
4 November 2009 at 6:25 am.
When my grandma died, I was miles away, yet I felt her… I knew. And I couldn’t make peace with the feeling, I still cannot. I can speak about my own death without being afraid, but I cannot accept talking about people I care about dieing. Can you tell me why, Robin?
[Reply]
Robin Easton Reply:
November 7th, 2009 at 11:31 am
Dear Mihaela, I am so touched by this dear sincere sharing. It is right from your heart. When I was younger I remember the first time I realized that just because someone I loved had died, it didn’t mean our relationship or love had to stop. I started to talk with the people I loved and had lost. What I discovered from this was that I seemed to feel them around me more. I would feel this intense love and compassion and I knew they were watching over me. They were with me, as close as my own skin.
But if I went around believing I had TOTALLY lost them I couldn’t feel them. It was like they really were gone. I remember one day thinking intensely about my father, who had been dead for several years. I longed to just sit and talk with him for even an hour. I was imagining all the things I would share with him and ask him. I got so wrapped up in thinking about him and feeling him near me that I had this spontaneous impulse, “Oh! I’ll call Dad and talk with him.” I got so wrapped up in it that I forgot he was dead and actually picked up the phone. It wasn’t until I was dialing his old office number that it hit me what I was doing. I put the phone down and started to cry. Then….and I know this may sound unusual, but what I did was I picked up the phone again and dialed his old number. Then I pushed in the button that hangs up the phone, but STILL held the hand set and I TALKED with my father through the phone as if he was STILL alive. I laughed and cried and told him all the things that were happening in my life. I told him how I missed him and loved him. Ever since that day, I know that all I have to do is talk to the people I love and they are with me. They are listening, They are trying to help me, guide me.
My own life experience is that we CAN continue relationships with people we love and have died (if we want to) and those relationships can grow and heal and inspire and do everything that a physical relationship can (if we want). It takes great trust in yourself, in Life….and a willingness to create your own reality. Or at the very least to explore your other realities.
We must be willing to let go the fear, which creates a wall between us and those we love (whether living or dead), and in doing so we bring that which we love close to us. We bring it to Life (so to speak). We carry the dead with us, and through us they live…and so do we. Thank you dear Mihaela. Your heart is true.
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Larry McDowell Says:
4 November 2009 at 8:52 am.
Why do we tip toe around death? For me, I was brought up not to speak of such things and it was uncomfortable because it felt like you were just drudging up pain unnecessarily. In fact, the opposite is true and the perceived notion of drudging up pain is actually healing talking place. One of the phrases that I hear and dislike the most when there is a loss is “I’m here if you need me” or “I’ll give you some space, but I’m here.” Even though it sounds like help, it’s putting the responsibility onto the person grieving; something that they shouldn’t have to worry about.
Robin, what your post re-affirms is that we, as friends/family, need to take the initiative of listening and being there for our loved ones. It’s not that we don’t want to be there; it’s sometimes that we don’t know how to do it. Your “ice breakers” (for lack of a better word) will be a great help for me in the future. Just asking the right question like “tell me what it’s like to lose…” gets the ball rolling and the healing to begin. Thank you.
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Robin Easton Reply:
November 7th, 2009 at 11:52 am
Dear Larry, what a wonderful joy to see you here. AND….you raise a whole new insight into this topic. Wow!! That is some insight. I agree; when someone is grieving, especially if they are not used to feeling things deeply…and they may not be very clear if they have suffered a deep loss…it could be extremely hard for them to reach out and say, “Please listen while I talk and cry about this.” It might not even occur to some people to do this. To have those around them take the initiative and step in and almost act like a loving parent would make a huge difference.
I know that in both the cases in this post neither of these people were thinking clearly at all. They were hanging by a teeny tiny thread. Very lost, isolated and cut off from everything that was familiar to them. Their whole world had been suddenly turned upside down. People going through this more often than not aren’t even close to getting their feet on ground. They may not even know where the ground is. Thank YOU Larry. I so value your wisdom.
PS I think this same principle that you speak of (where we don’t take the initiative) is true in so many aspects of our culture. We’re often afraid to be the only one to speak out, reach out, do something different, break a rule, go against the grain, trust a seemingly irrational impulse, and so forth. But I have found it is where true freedom lies. We not only set ourselves free but all those around us.
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Plastic Mancunian Says:
4 November 2009 at 10:32 am.
Hi Robin.
You are of course totally correct. A lot of people do not want to talk about death, simply because they don’t actually want to be faced with a grieving person. I’ve been in both positions; wanting to talk to somebody about the death of my father when he died almost 30 years ago but also not wanting to chat to somebody who really needed to.
My father died in 1981, two months before I started University. The only reason I didn’t take a year off was because family and friends convinced me that I should realise my ambition. A couple of months into my course, a new friend suddenly announced he was leaving university because his father had died. Because I was still grieving (and putting on a brave face) I told him what had happened to my father a few months before. We ambled off to the pub and over a couple of beers, we poured out our grief to each other. It was very sad but in a weird way rewarding for both of us.
I hate to admit it but since then I have become one of those people who feels uncomfortable chatting to somebody about their loss. It’s not something I’m proud of and its something I should address, really. I think the problem is that the emotions involved are huge. Obviously there are exceptions – when Mrs PM’s grandparents died, I was there for her and sat with her while she grieved.
Maybe its time to bite the bullet and be more proactive under such sad circumstances rather than leaving people alone with their grief.
As usual, Robin, you are totally correct and you make a goon like me think about the importance of such things.
Cheers
PM
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Robin Easton Reply:
November 7th, 2009 at 1:28 pm
Dear PM, what a fascinating and honest comment. It addresses so many issues. I was touched by the story of you and your friend going off to the pup to share your experiences and grief. It struck me as a very healthy thing that the two of you would share a similar grief AND that you also found it rewarding to talk about it.
That “rewarding” feeling is the edges of Life and hope seeping in from sharing grief, talking about death and how you both felt. It’s almost like we have to go through the dark to find the light, Life and peace. We often retreat when we hit, what “appears” to be, a solid black wall that looks soooo HUGE. One could even say that the HUGE black wall (or emotions around death and so many other things) is an illusion. It only becomes real when we leave it there, when we don’t speak of death, emotions, and the more challenging aspects of life.
I have experienced that the LESS I explore the appearingly huge black wall the bigger the wall gets. Maybe the trick is to explore a little at a time. Keep exposing ourselves to more of Life, new experiences, new emotions, thoughts, ideas, ways of living, being and responding.
I do know this, that you have a lot to offer the world and in being proactive you give a gift. You invite others to grow and you help move them and yourself toward Life. See? I even made a “goon” like you talk about your experiences. LOL!! Just as you have made a “goon” like me look at all this in a whole new way. Yes, YOU did that…simply by sharing your thoughts here. I got to explore and express things in a way that I never have. YOU gave me that by sharing your story. I am so so grateful Mr. PM. Also was touched that you could be there for your wife. Good for you!!
Just loved reading your two latest posts. They are hysterical!!
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Tweets that mention Naked In Eden Blog – Robin Easton » When We Don’t Speak of Death -- Topsy.com Says:
4 November 2009 at 12:04 pm.
[...] This post was mentioned on Twitter by Mihaela Lica, RobinEaston, Nancy Hinchliff, Trish Scott, Trisha Scott and others. Trisha Scott said: RT @RobinEaston In talking about death we move closer to life. Two true stories. http://bit.ly/3eCIJo [...]
Wilma Ham Says:
4 November 2009 at 2:37 pm.
Oh Robin. We ignore life full stop, we skate over the surface of life like it is an ice skating ring. Everything lies frozen beneath the surface, sometimes we see it but cannot touch it. When we would like to try and touch it, we are afraid of getting too cold and frozen in the process, so we stay away.
But not you, my warm friend, you make a hole in the ice and go and dive under, knowing you will find no harm.
Oh Robin, we are so afraid of each others pain and how that pain can drag us under the ice and can keep us there. But you describe what can really happen when we are not afraid and open to the love that we are, the warmth that we carry within us that will keep us safe.
You my dear friend are a treasure and because you are connected to LIFE you can go anywhere as anywhere is life.
Death, grief, pain, joy, birth all is LIFE and equally beautiful for your love and warmth will embrace everything with great wonder and love and without judgment or withholding.
You my friend are connecting at the level we are supposed to be connecting at and most of us have lost.
You are a treasure to show us again what is possible.
The warmest hug to you, Wilma
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Robin Easton Reply:
November 7th, 2009 at 2:34 pm
Dear dear Wilma, you write so poetically and always honestly from your stunning heart. I just cannot get over your ability to see right to the heart of things. As if all else has been stripped from you and you are in spirit, soul, body and mind…Life speaking to me. You are.
You also are one to hold nothing back. Your being is so powerful and life-filled I feel you all the way over here. You are bold and brave and yet so soft and compassionate. What a mix. You remind me of Nature. She has no hidden agenda and is bare and raw in the most beautiful astounding way. You just KNOW where you stand with Nature. I’ve often thought that it is why some people are afraid of Nature; it is her bold way of being what she REALLY is.
Yes, when we humans cling to our illusions we lose so much. We miss the magic and mystery that we desperately try to find in books and teachings. All the while, everything we seek is right under our noses. Every experience, emotion, impulse is a doorway to mystery, Life and the Great Unknown, a doorway to better understand not only our own humanity but all of humanity. I think we often want the magic and mystery, but without having to take any risks, without feeling any fear, pain or doubt, without REALLY opening ourselves to each other and Life. And yet, we can find all we hunger for simply by “living” with an open heart and experiencing Life. It is then that we gain body knowing, which no one can rob us of. It becomes us. When THAT happens WE become Life.
Your beautiful wise thoughts made me think of this little passage from my book (the one I just signed a contract on).
“Why do I always confront my fears? I guess in doing so I take back my life. Maybe even my right to be fully alive, to be a whole human being. I want to know my own strength and maybe my own worth, both physically and spiritually. Some people seem truly content to skim across the surface of life, like the rocks of their youth they skimmed across water. Why aren’t I like that? My life might be easier. But no, I am compelled to test myself. I hunger to discover how far I can go. And then, I want the chance to go beyond.” Excerpt Naked in Eden – © Robin Easton
Dearest Wilma, thank you for “seeing” and being the deeply generous soul you are. What a magical experience you are. YOU touch lives in a HUGE way. You encourage all around to you to fully live. The warmest hugs are sent right back to you. Always. Robin
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Steven Aitchison Says:
4 November 2009 at 2:39 pm.
Jesus Robin! I hate crying when reading blog posts, it’s just not the done thing, stop writing posts like these, it’s like watching Little House on The Prairie all over again
It’s gets to me when death comes to children, for whatever reason and I immediately empathise.
I am looking forward to my own death but dread everyone else’s.
It was great how you listened to your heart and trusted it enough to make the call and to ask the question of your friend.
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Robin Easton Reply:
November 7th, 2009 at 2:41 pm
Dear Steven, I am laughing my face off reading your “Little House on the Prairie” comment. Okay, fess up; did you REALLY watch Little House on the Prairie?? If you did that speaks volumes of you. Even if you didn’t it still does. You may hate crying but there beats within your chest a deeply sensitive heart.
Yes, I wrote in a comment here that I imagine the loss of a child would be the hardest of all. I too empathize. Maybe because children are like a promise. They represent the future, new life, an extension of ourselves. They are literally, physically a part of us. all people we love become part of us, but a child is part of our very flesh.
Thank you Steven for encouraging me to listen to my heart. That means a lot to me. It was a lesson I will never forget.
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Robb Says:
4 November 2009 at 2:44 pm.
Kia ora Wild Sister,
I had a friend who killed himself when I was 15. It was only a few years ago when I returned to the states to visit that a lovely and beautiful friend met me for lunch and the first thing she said was she wanted to talk about Kevin – 30 years later I was finally able to unburden myself, we cried and cried like it was yesterday. My father died in 1987 while on a trip out east with my mom. I had to fly from Wisconsin to South Carolina arrange all the details, drive her home, comfort my sisters, and bury my father. I was back at work before I even realized what had happened. I think the tears that poured out of me that day in the mountains, the wails the emanated from the deepest parts of my being, were grieving for people I loved and was never allowed to grieve for. I had carried all that within me for soooo long.
We in the western cultures have made death a somber business, done with decorum and religious protocol and then we just move on with our lives with these huge shadows looming over us that then manifest in damaged spirits, broken relationships, drugs and alcohol, even violence. All completely disconnected from the cause. We are not allowed to discuss and grieve. So we carry it around with us, at least I did.
When I moved here and witnessed a few Maori tangi’s I was completely transformed, and death was brought into a context of being simply part of the journey. The body is kept in the home, people stay with the person, talk to, sing to, touch and hug, wail and cry. People are fed and cared for, and within the death is also a celebration of Life. That seems so much more relevant than the way we approach it. To see a loved one carried out for burial while a stirring Haka dance is done will move the most staunch person to feel something.
Being out in the mountains these past few days I encountered head on the possibility of never traveling there again because of this hip. I simply cannot carry huge loads deep into the mountains right now. Hopefully I will resolve the situation and return better than ever, but the possibility exists it might not. So I set up my camp by a beautiful little stream and I cried as if grieving for these mountains. But what I have learned is that no matter what happens my soul will always be here, and that it is okay, I have been honoured and privileged to travel in such a place, and like death I have to acknowledge that and accept it.
Sorry to rave on Wild Sister, but it was sort of like a wake in some ways, and then to come read out and read your words, and the words of the others here, makes me feel very connected to you all.
Aroha,
Robb
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Robin Easton Reply:
November 7th, 2009 at 4:35 pm
Kia ora Wild Brother, Wow! I am stunned. I have tears in my eyes and yet at the same time I am elated and feel so connected. You will resonate deeply with a part of Chapter Ten in my book when it comes out. I write about a similar experience of wailing. My god, we need to get your stories in a book sometime. Make sure you keep this comment. NEVER worry about raving on with me. Never.
This is pure unadulterated Life, right out of the depths of your soul. Life at its finest. It tells the story of your love and passion for Life and for your beloved mountains. The wailing you describe here…it’s as if you have described my own experience. There are times I could still wail. It is part of being alive, part of my wildness. I live in an area where I’d be carted off if I wailed like that. It is why we need wild place so deep that we can walk into the wild…and wail. In our wailing we heal, we feel our connection to all of humanity…all of Life…all of Existence. We are not androids, cardboard cut outs, mechanized machines. We are sooooooooo plush and vast we cannot even imagine how far we extend. This comment is something that you must NEVER apologize for. Do you know that in sharing this you confirm my own existence, a way of life so many are losing, forgetting.
Oh dear Robb, I am sorry that your hip is bothering you. I didn’t know this. I cried reading your words. I will keep you in my heart and prayers that whatever is needed to heal your hip will come to you. I am SOOOOO touched that you shared sitting by the little stream crying. Robb, always keep your heart this open, this hungry, this wailing, this joyous, this wise. Yes, like a wake, I too grieve in this same way in the wild. Mother Earth just accepts it all and never judges. She is filled with compassion so great we just fall into it with everything we are. I understand. Isn’t it amazing how we can grieve something and at the same time feel bursting with Life and Love. As if in our grief we praise that which we love. Robb, you REALLY are as much a part of those mountains as the trees that sprout from the Earth, as the creeks that seek the sea.
You have given me and everyone here a gift beyond measure.
We are all connected.
Aroha…always.
Your sister,
Robin
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Julie Says:
4 November 2009 at 4:32 pm.
Dear Robin. You’ve touched on something that’s tremendously huge, sending a ripple effect across so many of our social lives. We’re afraid to talk about anything at all that’s deeply personal, hugely meaningful. We glide across the surface of topics like so much small talk that really doesn’t penetrate our outer layers, hindering us from really connecting to others. Death is the sharpest example of this—and we’ve all encountered variations of your examples (and thank you for offering the words that can safely start the healing process)—yet other examples are everywhere. We’re so afraid of stepping on toes, of become overly personal, seemingly too inquisitive, when, really, asking questions is the truest way of getting to know someone, to relate to them on a uniquely human level. Connection…
My god, connection is SO what the world is missing… We rattle around in our own little worlds, overlapping our worlds sometimes and sometimes actually forming deeply emotional bonds. But we’re able to do connect and bond so effortlessly and beautifully—if we but remove our own barriers, our fears and doubts. If we but simply trust, trust that what the other person wants, needs, craves, enjoys is exactly what we want, need, crave, and enjoy ourselves. We all need love, and we wither without it.
You are a gift to us all, to so fearlessly open these topics. An ambassador of love… Thank you. Thank you.
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Robin Easton Reply:
November 7th, 2009 at 8:32 pm
Dearest Julie, Yet again I am struck by the beauty and passion of your writing…of YOU. Wow! This is just stunning. I really LOVE how you tell it like it is. It reminds me of Wilma and Robb. Have you been to Robb Kloss’ site. His comment is just here above yours. I’ve seen that you and Wilma have connected. You have described American culture so well. It reminded me of when I came out of the rainforest and how I once told a friend, “I am stunned, there so many many people, people everywhere. And yet….it is a collective of isolated individuals. You just reminded me of a story I will have to share as a post sometime that exemplifies this very thing.
And yes, we are afraid for all the reasons you state here, stepping on toes, being overly personal, too inquisitive, and I ask what is the bottom line feeling under all these fears? That is what I once asked myself. I realized I was afraid of making mistakes and hurting someone, but it went deeper, I was afraid of being wrong, bad, rejected, shunned, alone (through rejection)…and beneath all that if I was shunned, wrong, bad, rejected….I would die.
I think a couple of things changed this for me. One was looking so so so closely at my own humanity, exploring my own feelings to the depth of a bottomless pit, facing death, being alone, facing and looking at every emotion under the sun, facing all my mistakes and claiming my humanity, forgiving myself, LOVING myself, which allowed me to easily love others. The other thing is that I’ve been through SO much in my life that one day I just realized I had nothing left to lose. I had NOTHING…period. I didn’t “OWN” anything or anyone. I think when we have nothing left to lose we often find great peace. Deep peace and we become fearless. Reaching out to another person is as easy as breathing for me. But it’s more than that. We discover that reaching out and loving is as necessary to us as breathing. It is the soul of us (ourselves), which we breath in when we reach out to another person.
And yes, when we can trust…miracles happen, major miracles. Sometimes Life requires that we trust blindly with no reason, no rational or explanation….just blind trust. I love that. Thank you for your love, wisdom and encouragement. I bask in your ability to openly feel and express. It and you are truly lovely.
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Walter Says:
4 November 2009 at 7:05 pm.
Arrr, you lusty wench! Robin you bring out the pirate in me. I could not help but carry you off to my blog. This was just too good, I am so proud of you.
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Robin Easton Reply:
November 7th, 2009 at 8:38 pm
My dear Walt. I laughed so hard over this. It is soooo YOU!! The TOTAL maverick that I always see in you. I didn’t get this comment until after I’d been to your blog, just to visit you and then I saw what was there and of course it brought tears to my eyes and SO much joy to my heart. Just felt so dang connected. Your writing is excellent. I was looking at some of your other posts there and just can’t get over how clear you are and SHARP, always hitting the nail right on the head. It’s powerful stuff. Your kind words here really mean the world to me. Thank you my dear friend and fellow maverick.
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ZuzannaM Says:
4 November 2009 at 9:06 pm.
Dear Robin,
Thank you for the very important issues that you brought in this chapter.
I too had many losses in my life and I had to deal alone with these losses. It was extremely hard to grief but such life. I have overcome this somehow but it took longer then it should to accept the fact that the close person died. Just like a birth of a human it is a special day, also death one shall embrace with similar feelings. Sure, it is hard to say the last Goodbye’ but knowing that life is just a journey it will be easier to embrace death…I have learned to accept the death by reading your articles and I am less afraid of it then before.
Thank you,
Zuzanna
[Reply]
Robin Easton Reply:
November 7th, 2009 at 8:45 pm
Dear Zuzanna, I am always moved by you. I’ve thought of you a few times while doing this series and I know it can’t be easy for you. I’ve also often thought that it is all those very losses that have made you not only astoundingly strong but deeply sensitive, compassionate and caring toward all other people. I find that amazing that loss can actually make a person rich in other ways. And you are one of the richest people I know. You are so full of love that it spills over onto everyone around you.
And Zuzanna, I am truly humbled that anything I could share here might have helped you feel less afraid. I do know this about you, you are not a fear based person. You live life from your heart and from a place of trust and openness. And not just with me but with soooooo many. To witness the trail of love you leave is very beautiful. Thank you dear one. Robin
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Jeff Says:
4 November 2009 at 11:17 pm.
Hi Robin.
I have been away for a while… seems like a lifetime. It is so refreshing to visit your blog. I think of you often and even though I have experienced death in different forms, when I think of you I think of Life. I have visited recently and leave this comment just to say thanks. You are a source of inspiration and your raw honest approach to the more difficult elements of living in these times makes me smile.
You are an angel among us and I appreciate you, your blog, and the way you freely share your gift with the rest of us.
Namaste’– jb
[Reply]
Robin Easton Reply:
November 7th, 2009 at 8:55 pm
Dear Jeff, Oh it is SO good to connect again. I posted your blog on my facebook page and several people wrote me telling me that they really loved your work. Are you on Facebook?
It did me a lot of good revisiting your site the other day. As always I was overcome by a great peace. Also the sincerity and passionate emotion that is in your writing moved me to tears. So wonderful to see in the world. I’ve add you to my RSS feed.
Thank you, Jeff, for your kindness, encouragement and sharing the beauty that is you. Heaven knows we all need it. Namaste’ to YOU my friend. Robin
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Bern ~ Walking in Stillness Says:
5 November 2009 at 12:33 am.
When we become empathic and can feel what someone else is feeling, we can truly listen to what is being said, or when we truly listen we actually do become empathic.
In essence, one acts as a surrogate listener because the person who truly has to listen is the speaker. By drawing out the feelings and thoughts and emotions that needed expressing, the expresser can finally listen with the heart to that which they have been ignoring. Most of us are always talking to our selves by talking to others. We are trying to get our attention to relieve the tensions that we hold within. Its unfortunately an epidemic in society that we don’t know how to be present enough to listen. Most will only be triggered by the words and feelings that come pouring out. Therefore, most can not hear or be here.
And this is especially true for the concept of death, since it is essentially taught to us that we should ignore it and repress it. And by repressing death, people in general, have forgotten how to live. Bring the feelings back to the surface to be released, and we will have found Life once again.
[Reply]
Robin Easton Reply:
November 8th, 2009 at 10:29 am
Dear Bern, This is brilliant! So exciting. I love the part about being and becoming empathic. Absolutely!!! This is such a powerful insight, one I’ve found true in my own life, over and over again. We truly are capable of feeling what someone else is feeling (or thinking) and, YES!, the more we trust and ACT on our heart impulses the stronger they become…and the CLEARER they become. We actually feel and know why we are acting/responding in a certain way because we see and feel what the other person is feeling, seeking, needing and so forth.
This is another whole level you have introduced here that is just SO important. It’s a bit like having the impulse to sing one day. The more we DO sing the better we know HOW to sing. But if we get that impulse and ignore it we never really learn how to sing or know what if feels like to sing.
I am just grinning and happy over this comment and you. I also just love this part: “…the person who truly has to listen is the speaker. By drawing out the feelings and thoughts and emotions that needed expressing, the expresser can finally listen with the heart to that which they have been ignoring.”
The other amazing thing here is the speaker gets to find their OWN truth, truth that is ALREADY stored in their being, truth that they already ARE.
I love what you wrote here about listening. Here is part of a comment I left on Wilma’s post on listening. http://www.wilmasblog.com/leverage/2009/11/02/intimacy-happens-by-listening/
“There is something (for me) about listening. When done intently, fully, where I set aside my own thoughts or desires to be seen or express and so on, something happens when I simply listen fully intently as if I were meeting god in physical form and god was telling me about itself. When I can listen with NO agenda of my own, not relating what the speaker is saying to some book, something I learned, some new-age trend or psych trend or, or, or…Then I DO see god in that person, and my soul connects with theirs. They become me and I them. And it is one of the most thrilling things I’ve ever done.
But probably the MOST amazing thing that happens when I listen this way is that I feel as if “I” have been the speaker and expressed all my own inner things through THEIR expression, their talking. It is wild, because I feel as fulfilled as if “I” had done all the talking. I feel set free, REALLY set free and I may not have said a word. For me to experience humanity and all the honest aspects of it through another human being is one of THE most healing things I’ve ever known. I literally go away feeling healed, totally set free, and with a stronger sense of myself and Life.”
Dear wise Bern, this WHOLE comment just went into me like shinning brilliant light. I loved this insight so much. You said, “…by repressing death, people in general, have forgotten how to live. Bring the feelings back to the surface to be released, and we will have found Life once again.” Ooooh, I just LOVE this quote of yours. It is so “sweeeeeet”, like liquid sunlight, so true. Bless you for seeing, for knowing. We are indeed kindred. Thank you for taking the time to share such beautiful insight, ways of being. I am honored. This whole comment of yours would make a great post on your site. It’s a keeper!
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Bern ~ Walking in Stillness Reply:
November 11th, 2009 at 4:02 pm
Hi Robin,
You are wonderful in so many ways, and here you are wonderful in that you are redefining death to give it life.
If we now redefine everything we think we know, then our lives, and the world as we perceive it magically changes before our very eyes. We can take note of how we have placed charges or associations to the words that we use. Through this portal of awareness, we can set the world free.
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Hilary Says:
5 November 2009 at 5:49 am.
Hi Robin – those stories are mind jogging .. and I can see where you’re coming from and how the two of them were suffering .. to share their love. As you know I’m in the middle of this – I haven’t faced my uncle’s death .. except to acknowledge and know that he was a part of my life, and I his especially latterly .. but everyday I wave my eyes at him – as he died down the corridor in the Nursing Centre, where my mother will die, when she decides. I have two good friends from the Centre – one whose wife died there, and one whose father died there – and I’m not sure if I didn’t somewhat behave as those two congregations did .. but we’re still friends and they knew Derek (as he’d been in the Centre with a fractured hip two years ago – and we all have Africa connections) .. I think I’ve changed (I must have evolved) my thought perspectives as I do feel sad, but I’m not grieving .. and even a quick emergency visit to the hospital yesterday – my mother said ’she’s not frightened’ – she’s fine.
The aspects of death change each generation or two, and most definitely within each culture .. I’ve been very interested in this subject – opening my mind and making me think about my actions etc
All the best and I’m sure we’re all learning so much .. and the rocket projection still amuses me and always will .. Hilary Melton-Butcher: Positive Letters Inspirational Stories
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Robin Easton Reply:
November 8th, 2009 at 11:03 am
Dear Hillary, Thank you for your lovely comment. One thing I always sense about you is a deep genuineness and kindness. I am also touched by your willingness to be honest. In doing do you encourage others to feel that it’s okay to be honest about how they feel.
I know this isn’t an easy time for you right now and yet, I also see how you ARE questing, questioning, keeping an open mind and heart. It’s reflected in all your comments and emails. I find that particularly touching and soothing about you. It’s very endearing what your mother said about you. It also reflects her pride in you.
I too have found that different cultures deal with death in various ways, some embrace it as part of Life and others never speak of it (or as little as possible). Some cultures have great wailings and celebrations for their deceased. Some cultures even drink part of the ashes from the dead. So many fascinating beliefs and rituals. Like I said, the thing about you is that you are willing to keep an open mind. I love that. It is what makes you or any of us grow. And as long as you keep an open mind you will continue to grow and will grieve in your own way and time. I really believe this. Your earnest sharings are treasured here. They also contribute to help us ALL grow. Thank you dear Hillary.
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Robin Easton Says:
5 November 2009 at 12:37 pm.
Dear Friends,
I will respond to the rest of your comments tomorrow as I have a day full of appointments.
However, I want you to know I think this is the most astounding page of comments I’ve ever received. There is absolute GREATNESS on this page, greatness that has come from you and touched me beyond measure. I’ve felt high all day yesterday and today from the magnificent wisdom and compassion here.
I will return to tomorrow, possibly tonight to respond to the rest.
Hugs,
Robin
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suzen Says:
5 November 2009 at 1:02 pm.
Hi Robin! I came here from Walt’s after drying my eyes. Your depth of compassion is a wondrous gift and I so appreciate the stories. A great lesson to all for sure. There really does seem to be something lacking (overall) in the ability to deal with another’s pain. Far easier to just cheer them on and not have the kind of conversations that the person in pain really needs to have. I know from personal experience what it is to need a YOU to talk to after a stunning loss.
[Reply]
Robin Easton Reply:
November 8th, 2009 at 11:47 am
Dear Suzen, what a treat to see you here and finally meet you. I’ve seen you around at several places and always enjoy your comments. I’ve have been to your lovely site. http://erasingthebored.blogspot.com/
Your kind generous words here touch me; thank you so much. I was also moved when you said that you have been in the position (after a stunning loss) of needing someone to talk with on that truly deep level. That tells me a great deal about your openness, your willingness to explore and feel what you were going through at the time. I too have been there and did not find anyone open to the depth that I knew my soul had to go. Unwilling and unable at that point in my life to stuff the experience down (had been open for way too long to start shutting down) I explored all the feelings on my own. Like Robb says above, I wailed and talked to the person I lost. In doing so I connected with the most infinitely loving compassion, which helped me connect more fully to the person I’d lost, to myself and all of Life. I simply felt connected and no longer isolate. But it gets harder to find places and people who are open to this kind of soul spelunking. It seems more and more our culture takes refuge in their minds. And I believe we are an entire BEING, not just a mind. Thank you Suzen, I truly enjoy the openness of your beautiful heart. Am just now listening to the video on your site: Dream On. One of my favorites.
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Nadia - Happy Lotus Says:
5 November 2009 at 1:52 pm.
Hi Robin,
Thank you, thank you and thank you for this post. You brought to light a subject that I have experienced too. When my mother died, she had passed away due to a rare kind of cancer. She only lived for six months after being diagnosed.
When she passed, no one wanted to talk to me about it. It was as if it was a bad luck event that only happened to a select few. I was shocked because to me, we are all going to die eventually. I mean…no one escapes this reality and yet no one wanted to talk about it. It was weird.
It truly changed my perspective about people because I realized that people really do not want to accept the fact that they will die. And so when someone dies, they panic because it reminds them that they will not be here forever.
Those who survive the passing of a loved one, need to talk about it in order to move forward. Losing my mother was one of the most difficult things I had to do and I am blessed to be married to a man who lost his mother at a young age too. It brought us closer even more than we already were. I also am fortunate that I also had my father to talk to but besides those two…no one else wanted to talk about it.
Thank you for being so open on a subject that many refuse to accept exists. Blessings and hugs to you!
[Reply]
Robin Easton Reply:
November 8th, 2009 at 12:32 pm
Dear Nadia, I SO appreciate you sharing this experience and how it was for you when you lost your mother. I am really struck by your words: “It was as if it was a bad luck event that only happened to a select few.” As I read that I realized how true this really is. I just never put it into words, but I have seen it many times. Even in just a discussion about death people will often refer to someone who died of cancer or sudden heart attack and so on, and then give “phew” sigh as if death only happened to the rare unlucky person. Maybe if we can see it ONLY as that we don’t have to extend our thoughts and feelings beyond that to “Death as part of Life”. Something that we too will one day face.
I’m sure losing your mother was gut-wrenching to say the least. It’s hard enough to lose those we love and bonded with forever, but to lose them and then have no one we know, no one close to us to share the experience, to grieve, cry, reminisce and express what we feel is enough to drive a person insane or to the brink of suicide, and does for some people. You being SO open and heart-based I am just thankful that you husband was able to embrace you and your grief during your loss. It speaks highly of his as an open soul as well. It touched me that you and your Dad were able to share your mutual grief as well. That must have been very precious to you. It made me feel happy just reading that you had these two good men in your life through this time.
Nadia, you are an angel. Thank you for just….knowing. Your encouragement means a lot to me. Also thank you for the blessings and hugs…and you KNOW I am sending the same back to you. I cherish your buoyant uplifted spirit. Robin
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Lance Says:
5 November 2009 at 8:32 pm.
Hi Robin,
I read this tonight…not an easy read at all. It’s not easy, because it hits upon something I’m not so sure I do very good at. I wonder how close I really am to the “close” friends, who choose to ignore and skirt around the real emotions. I wonder if it’s far too easy for me to “move on”…to not sit and listen. At this moment, I have this large knot in my heart. I don’t think it’s coincidence that I’ve read this, and know what I should do…know what matters…know what heals.
Robin, this is so difficult -and still – so, so good. It’s good for me to read, and maybe view death differently…see the life that is really within death. So, Robin – dear, dear Robin – know that as difficult as this is, know that I am moved deeply by it all…
Love and hugs,
Lance
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Robin Easton Reply:
November 8th, 2009 at 1:04 pm
My dear Lance, You are a such a gem. Do you what I just admire and love about you — besides your love of life, your wonderful sense of humor and play, and your earthy wisdom — you come here to my site, even if you are uneasy, afraid, anxious because something I share brings up intense emotions or doesn’t make full sense to you, etc….YOU still “show up”. and I don’t mean to my blog; I mean you “show up for Life”. I was telling my husband about you last night (he knows about Lance) and I said how MUCH I admire your willingness to STILL “show up” for Life. And to top it off you are both astoundingly honest and deeply kind and loving.
My dear friend, who is so earnest, it’s OKAY to have a knot in your heart. It means you are still ALIVE. The only time you want to worry is when you NO LONGER have feel any reaction, when you no longer ponder so deeply, when you no longer get tears in your eyes, no longer laugh. We ALL are afraid of something, even the most fearless of us. Fear is normal, it can guide us and even help us survive at times. That you STILL “feel” is why I love you, why I admire you. My husband felt the same. We were both deeply moved by your comment.
Lance, I can’t encourage you enough to dare to go deeper. I’ll tell you why. I have always sensed that it’s who you REALLY are, what you hunger for. You will find your greatest wisdom and creativity and you will “hit your stride” by going there. To use trite words: it’s your destiny. I often have this sense about you that you have been given a calling. And it is soooo huge and it lurks all the time just beneath the surface. I encourage you to embrace it, and remember it’s OKAY to be afraid or anxious or unknowing…even alone. And you may shed friends and find new ones along the way, sometimes that is part of our spiritual/emotional evolution. It’s takes courage to fully step into Life. And I really believe you have not only the courage to do it, but you have some BIG shoes to fill. A part of you already knows this.
Thank you for touching my heart. What you share is SO meaningful.
Hugs and love to you,
Robin
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Alex Says:
6 November 2009 at 5:40 am.
I have been looking forward to droping by and reading the latest blog for a while. I have waited until I had enough time to read both your blog Robin and the comments made by others. Each commentor adds their own experience; their own ‘ingredients’ and the result is a wonderfully rich and nourishing emotional casserole!
Although, I understand and experience the struggle of talking about difficult issues, I truly believe that when we share we simultaneously feed and get fed; it’s a bit like giving a hug, you can’t give without getting! Sometimes nothing can take away the pain, but being held, heard and hugged can tranform the emotions into something constructive – as you wonderfully illustrated with the 2 stories. Both individuals experienced loss and pain, but gained new friendship and love.
I’ve had some challenges of my own recently, so boy, was I hungry for soul-food. I’m glad I had the time to read and digest. I can feel my emotional energy levels picking up already.
I too feel closer to humanity after reading these pages. The “I’m fine” mask too many of us wear too much of the time (myself included) makes me feel lonely and ashamed of my struggles. Here I find honesty, vulnerability and identification – virtual hugs that give me strength and help me find value in those struggles and in my attempts to overcome them.
Thank you Robin, thank you everyone else!
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Robin Easton Reply:
November 8th, 2009 at 1:34 pm
Dear Alex, what a BEAUTIFUL comment! It’s so loaded. I love your insight about how we can’t share without feeding and being fed. That is SO true. In fact, that is the KEY. That is why we discover Life in Death when we can let the walls down and listen to our hearts and act of their calling.
Death is a bit like manure and growing flowers. Every spring I put manure on my garden and it stinks and I don’t want to touch it (although it’s well broken down) it’s till messy and flies buzz around my head…and even with gloves on I can’t get the stink off my hands for a day or two. Then I put the flower seeds in and it could just seem like nothing is happening except a whole lot of stinky untouchable mess. THEN…..suddenly out of that horrible dank dark rotten mass come little sparks of green life (hope), which turn into the most EXQUISITE flowers you could imagine. Life bursting from untouchable mess.
The hard, tough, lonely, grief stricken, messy looking areas of our lives are that manure. But with open hearts, patience they become fodder for a great bursting of Life, beauty and growth. Just as the Earth doesn’t waste anything, we need not either. All experiences just are.
You raise another VERY VERY important point here. Shame. Oh boy!! Often when we can’t fit into the stereotype of pulling ourselves together and acting like nothing is or has happened (whatever the situation) — and there can often be great pressure to pull ourselves together — we feel we have somehow failed. We feel ashamed. “After all, why can’t I JUST pull myself together and get on with my life. I’m upsetting other people; I should just keep this to myself.” Oh dear, we are left so alone. That is not how Life works. Life is a process and encompasses far more than we humans usually allow.
Dear Alex, you are such a gift in my life. Not only filled with vitality but very wise. I am thinking of you through the challenges you face. I too have been uplifted by you many many times. The people who come to my site are like you, kind, wise, loving and compassionate. I go away after some posts just reeling from the depth of humanity shared here. I am so grateful for this sharing of yours. It enriches my life. Thank YOU, Alex.
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Alex - iwalkdevon Reply:
November 9th, 2009 at 7:28 am
Wow, that’s an essay…or the start of a dissertation: One that I would love to write! The manure analogy made me giggle, because boy, life can sometimes feel like one huge pile of stinky-stuff! But Mother Nature knows what she’s doing. I just think she has a wicked sense of humour and a mystical way of teaching – how else do you explain hiding miracles and teaching in pain and pooh!
I watched a blacksmith at work recently and realised that the coal used to fire the forge & create beautiful metal-work was the remains of thousands/millions of years of life and death; no loss, no gain, just shifting forms.
‘Looking forward to the next installment
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Lynda Lehmann Says:
6 November 2009 at 5:54 am.
So much truth comes across here, Robin. And you’ve said it so well. Sharing people’s intimate feelings, the truth of their souls vis a vis loss and grief and death, is part of experiencing the great “TRUTHS” at the core of life. Such sharing does enrich one’s life and inner workings, while avoiding the subject just creates more isolation and despair.
I know even from my own case of breast cancer, that no one wants to talk about these things. It scares them to death. They prefer to just bury themselves in over-busyness, than confront their demons or the idea of death. Perhaps this escapism is a corollary of our need to avoid finding a personal or collective political will?
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Robin Easton Reply:
November 8th, 2009 at 2:20 pm
Dearest Lynda, You wrote: “Sharing people’s intimate feelings, the truth of their souls vis a vis loss and grief and death, is part of experiencing the great “TRUTHS” at the core of life.” This whole line is dear to me because I experience a society that often seeks truth and seeks truth and seeks truth….but through books, gurus, religion, and more, and in many ways I feel we do this because it is SAFE. When right under our noses in every-day-life are all the situations and experiences we need to carry us “directly” to the wisdom we seek. In fact, these experiences, which we often avoid, bring us soooo close to Life that there is no longer ANY separation between us and Life…or the Divine. We become what we really are. When we let down the wall and let Life in, even through Death, grief, loss, pain, suffering we go directly to the source of all core wisdom and truth. And that wisdom becomes BODY KNOWING. We never forget. We BECOME it.
I also know that this is not always easy, maybe never, so I understand why humanity is the way it is. But I also know that once we do open to Life, each time gets easier, and the rewards are innumerable. It is a one way ticket to everything we ever dreamed of feeling and more.
Aaaah yes, re: the avoidance in finding a collective political will. I agree. Until we are willing to CLAIM our own greatness, our own power we are like milkweed down on the wind and can be easily swayed, manipulated, bent, coerced by any strong overpowering wind that comes along. We are sitting ducks, easily controlled and brainwashed. My dear Lynda, you are SUCH a wise soul. You repeatedly turn my head with your depth of insight and vast overviews of Life. From this comment I better understand — at least in part — WHY you are so encompassingly wise and compassionate. You reflect a level of intelligence that just makes my spirit soar to great ecstatic heights. Thank you so much for this. Love, Robin
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Tess The Bold Life Says:
6 November 2009 at 11:21 am.
Robin,
I just read what you wrote on listening on Wilma’s blog and followed the link back to you. I actually thought is was a different Robin so I’m glad I did! I have a friend who has a sign in his office that says, We are all God serving God. Your comment on you’re experience on listening reminded me of that. I’m going to practice this method you mention with my hubby tonight, next with my daughters and finally with my sons-in-laws. I should be ready by then. LOL
Honestly listening like you suggest could bring peace on earth!
Now on this post. Oh my like Lance I’m not good at this either. It requires being very comfortable with intimacy and comfortable allowing others to have their pain without taking it on. I’m open to improvement and will talk with my mom about my dad who died last June. It will be difficult I’m sure with the first holidays without him on the horizon. So thanks for giving me the opportunity to grow again!
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Robin Easton Reply:
November 8th, 2009 at 2:33 pm
Hi Dear Tess, What a treat to see you here!! Great quote: “We are all God serving God.” I just LOVE that one. I was particularly touched you shared it as I wasn’t sure I had made sense that day in my comment, but reading this I grinned because I realized I did makes sense! LOL!! So thanks for letting me know.
I laughed out loud, Tess, over you practicing on your family…leaving the son in laws for last. That is hysterical. Then I thought about your world peace comment and I felt the truth of it in bones. What a lovely insight.
I am moved by you in the same way I was moved by Lance. You are honest, sincere and willing to keep an open mind. I could be wrong, but I bet talking to your mother would be a gift for both of you. Especially with the holidays coming it. I see you as very brave and bold Tess. You are capable of changing the world, whether it’s the son in laws LOL! or connecting with your mom. You could open new doors for all of them…and yourself. Thank you Tess. PS I just realized when I called you BOLD, I looked up and saw your title: Tess The Bold Life. Yes!! That is what Life is about.
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Sherry Says:
7 November 2009 at 6:25 am.
Thank you for being the same Robin from our high school days… warm, caring, and so in tune with the feelings of others. Never second guess following your heart to ask others how they are doing after they experience the loss of someone close to them. Your words on the Silence of Death are so dead on, pardon the pun. When my Nicole died at age 14, I was dumbstruck by how few people brought up her name around me. During that time, it was not the reminders of her life that tore at me, it was the lack of her presence, so conversation that included her name and minor remembrances were what I needed. Ministering to the grieving is life-affirming and just a few thoughtful words, even months later, mean so much. Love you Robs. Your friend always, Sherry
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Robin Easton Reply:
November 8th, 2009 at 2:46 pm
Oh Dear Sherry! Thank you thank you!! You have warmed my heart sharing this. I felt SO SO happy when I came here and saw your comment. I could hardly believe it. It just filled me with love and brought tears to my eyes. I was shook by your kind words and memory of me, actually quite stunned. You also offer me a gift I will NEVER forget when you tell me to never second guess following my heart. I hold you in very high esteem; I always have. So this coming from you is unforgettable.
I loved your pun. It too is SO you. The warm wacky humor I remember you for…so well. Sharing your experience upon Nicole’s death confirmed what I too have experienced. I also was so dumbstruck that even writing this article, I started to question if it was really that prevalent in our culture. But the number of emails and comments that have come in from people sharing similar experiences to yours and mind and others here has been overwhelming. My heart wrenched knowing you were alone during this time. You are one of the strongest most loving people I’ve ever known. And the most amazing mom. You love with your entire being. I really like your line: “Ministering to the grieving is life-affirming…” That is the whole key to this topic. Even in death there is life to be found. Thank you for your insights and intensely life-affirming presence here and in my life. I love you Sherry, always. Robs. Thank you from my heart.
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Emily Says:
7 November 2009 at 11:04 am.
Good Morning, Roby! Love the bottle photo (and thanks for your input earlier)! This is such a positive topic to be bringing “into the open”. I live around several very elderly people, some of whom are beginning the process of “moving into” leaving their bodies. With some of them there is such a peace and calm and we can sit together in that beautiful, almost “translucent” space of the line between “heaven and earth”, life and death, where they have already begun letting go! Others are more fearful and I can see it is their fear of the unknown.
A few months ago, I met a young man whose brother was tragically killed in a car accident. It was devastating to the whole community AND once the funeral was done and the meals taken to the family, the young man said to me that even his religion said he MUST just go on as if…everything were ok?!!? He was very close to his brother and he said he did not know how to live with the pain when everyone around him said to “just get on with your life” and did not talk about his brother at all–a few weeks after his brother died. As a culture it seems we are terrified of death and don’t want anyone reminding us about it.
Each and every time we can muster the courage/where with all to speak gently with someone in grief, we are step by step bringing something that needs to be, brought “into the light of day” and it helps everyone. I am thankful that for whatever reason I can speak openly with others.
PS I just read Sherry’s beautiful message above! Once again I am amazed at what this internet does to keep people in touch!
PPS Now I get to have a response! I am no fool! LOL and Lots of Love, Em
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Robin Easton Reply:
November 8th, 2009 at 3:29 pm
Dear Emmy, Wow! It is very powerful to have you and Sherry right in a row. Talk about feeling connected. I am sooooooo glad you left this comment. My experience has been the same as yours in terms of seeing that it is the “unknown”we fear. That was one of the biggest things I learned in the rainforest around all those potentially deadly creatures. I thought at first it was “them” that I feared soooooo intensly…and even that I a RIGHT to be afraid of them. After all, some of them could kill me. And because they could potentially kill me, I thought I had a right to fear them, see them as awful and even to be done away with or got rid of. In many ways this is exactly what we do with the topic of death or our emotions.
What I learned about the potentially deadly creatures was that I had a right to be “aware” of them and learn about them and understand their needs and how they “operated”….BUT just because they could be deadly to me did NOT mean I had the “right” to fear, hate them or do away with them. If I were to live in harmony with them I had to become aware, know their territories, needs, habits, body language and so on. Once I did that the fear left me and shifted to awareness, respect and even love.
I teared up over your story of the young man. My god, to lose his brother…like that is going to go away in a few weeks. Hello world! I think not. As you know so well it is a whole process of grieving, talking, sharing stories, which over time grow and expand ones ability to embrace more of LIFE (not death). I know that if you were there and he told you what was happening that he found someone who would openly embrace all he was going through. You are GREAT with others, Em. You offer them a vast space to experience, explore and feel whatEVER is going on. This of course allows them to slowly find their own truth and center, which begins the healing and evolution of their soul.
Yes, I too was deeply moved by Sherry’s beautiful poignant message. It did me good just to see both of you here. A lot of good. Thank you for taking the time. It means a lot to me Emmy. You mean a lot. Much love, Roby
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Chris Edgar Says:
7 November 2009 at 8:25 pm.
Hi Robin — thanks for this — I think your story about the man whose child died illustrates a larger point many of us miss — that we can have a stronger and more positive impact in people’s lives than we know. I’ve been in situations too where I’ve felt like “who am I to be curious about what’s going on for this person — they must have so many others in their life who they see as more important than me” and so on, and then if I talk to them and really get into what’s going on for them they deeply appreciate it.
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Robin Easton Reply:
November 8th, 2009 at 4:38 pm
Heeeey Dear Chris!! Good too see you again. This is SUCH an important insight you have shared here. Thank you, thank you for bringing this up. Yes, we all talk about wanting wars to stop, to have peace and harmony on the planet and I feel that if we could all realize exactly what you’ve stated here: That we have a stronger and more positive imact in people’s lives that we know…then we wold change the world. Absolutely YES! Imagine it, Christ, if we all lived this. I believe we would go a long way toward creating harmony on the planet. It is not the BIG things that change the world. It is EACH of us trusting our heartfelt impulses and reaching out in hundreds of little ways every single day that change the world. And not JUST to those we know well, although that’s a dang good place to start, but even beyond that to people in the store, at our schools, our hospitals, our banks, etc.
Like you, I too have found that EVERY single time I’ve trusted my heart and reached out to people they were profoundly grateful. Thank you Chris for sharing this. It’s so important.
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Dragos Roua Says:
8 November 2009 at 3:08 am.
Touching story, Robin. Living is here and now, death is a part of it and talking about it will make life meaningful again, instead of being a long line of suffering. I truly believe that pain is unavoidable in our lives but suffering is optional. Thank you
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Robin Easton Reply:
November 8th, 2009 at 4:46 pm
Dear Drago, Yes, my experience is that talking about death makes my life far more meaningful and expansive. I agree with you that we can create a “long line of suffering” when we don’t allow ourselves to look at and express our feelings around death. I think I remember a post you did about pain being unavoidable but suffering being optional. That is really something for us all to think about. I too have found that we can’t always prevent pain in our lives, but we can choose how we deal with it, respond to it, which in itself can prevent a lot of suffering. Thank YOU Dragos.
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nothingprofound Says:
8 November 2009 at 7:07 am.
I think sensitivity is the key. Sensitivity and the willingness to listen. Follow the lead of the one who has suffered the loss. Be open and communicative if they like you to be open and communicative, and mute and dumb if they like you to be mute and dumb.
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Robin Easton Reply:
November 8th, 2009 at 4:55 pm
Dear NothingProfound, What this makes me think of (for myself) is that if we are in tune with ourselves we are more in tune with others. I tend to be very empathic and more often than not feel what others are feeling, sometimes even hear their thoughts. So, I agree that it takes a certain sensitivity. Some people have more trouble “feeling” into situations like this and yet they have really good hearts and want to help those in need or in pain. I would encourage them to do so. If the person they try to help says “No, that’s not right for me” or “Leave me alone” then the person reaching out can rethink things. And simply by reaching out I believe we all develop more sensitivity. We may make a few mistakes a long the way, but with time we become more attuned to ourselves and others. Thank you for sharing this.
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soulMerlin Says:
8 November 2009 at 6:37 pm.
Dear Robin ~ I think the 70 comments say it all…or most of it all. People are shy of Death…and afraid of it. I am ~ and I don’t mind admitting it. I really hope that the oblivion of Death is followed by wonderful green fields and sunlight…but I’m not sure. But I shall return to the Giaia whatever and whenever that is. And I shall grieve and be grieved for.
When my mother and I looked at my father lying there..she said that he looked the same as he did the first time she met him. Then he seemed to come alive and he glowed. Then others came to see him and pay their last respects…but he had gone cold again. He had returned for my Mother and I. I will never forget it.
love
henry
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Denny Lyon Says:
9 November 2009 at 2:43 pm.
That was such a beautiful sharing of Life affirmed! Now I have to go read the 1st 2 installments. What you say is true about social isolation and I’ve often wondered the same. A thought came to me that many people are afraid of the wellspring of emotion to come out – especially if it’s anger about the death of a loved one directed at the well wisher – so they are afraid to inquire. That and a lot of people these days really don’t have good people skills and feel awkward I suppose.
What I especially enjoyed about your telling is that you have a high spiritual intelligence and knew to go ahead and ask anyway. (I’ve often doubted whether I should answer that quiet nagging thinking I was just a stranger too and did it anyway only to be rewarded with something wonderful.) Spirit knew you were strong enough to feel the emotions without getting overwhelmed. In the process you channeled a whole lot of healing and balance back into their lives. A wonderful experience now 3 times for your readers got to share too. What a delight you are!
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Dorothy Stahlnecker Says:
10 November 2009 at 2:09 pm.
Dearests Robin, this is such a wonderful series on the second most important thing in our worlds as life is number one and death is guaranteed as number two, each an important part of living our lives to the max and understanding our destiny. And yes most of the time people do not know what to say to someone when they loose someone they love thus when my son died at age17, (18 years ago) I found myself asking my friends and family to let me share bits of Daniel’s life that it made me feel good to tell them what I was feeling and what we had as mother and son. Most people who loose someone do not think it is appropriate to speak their heart therefore your post is wonderful as I now know there are several people here reading and learning that sharing the loss of a loved one is two fold, one for the living and the other for friends and family to learn and help us get through this awful time. 18 years later I still tell of my perfect son and all the life we lived and who he was so thank you from my heart to yours for this wonderful time to share with your friends as to who my son was … because today I may be Dorothy from grammology, but in my heart I am my daughter Sherry’s and my son Dans’ mother more important then everything else in my world and your post is another opportunity to remember how good that feels. Blessings sweet Robin…
Dorothy from grammology
grammology.com
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Gail @ A Flourishing Life Says:
11 November 2009 at 5:11 am.
What a beautiful post, Robin, and so important. I had a friend dying of colon cancer and took a beautiful walk with him where we talked about death. He was surprised, and a little tentative, as no one else had brought up the topic.
When we are real with what is actually happening, we are ALIVE. Life is so enriching. The suffering comes from holding on, being attached. When we let go and live, everyone and everything becomes so very precious.
Much love to you,
Gail
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Chrissy Says:
11 November 2009 at 9:08 am.
Hi Robin, I have read this post and the responses many times. It is strange when I experienced loss, I was unable to talk about it at all and I very much like Nothing Profounds comment above the most. Simple but true. Sensitivity is the one thing that for me is the key… I remember someone hugging me and it cut through everything and felt good because I didn’t have to say a word.
I can so easily understand why people do not want to talk about death…..I guess right now for a number of reasons, I feel unable to, I talk about it by far too frequently in my everyday life! I am sure that I am not alone in this either and selfishly, would probably be pretty useless at comforting others right now.
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Liara Covert Says:
11 November 2009 at 12:46 pm.
R, I phone an older lady friend a few times a week and she has recently experienced the loss of her aged husband, similar to the woman you describe in your post. Choosing to love and connect with people in all circumstances comes naturally to those people who do not permit fear to control them. Your reflections encourage readers to reflect on the love that matters. To focus on love dissolves the fear after you recognize it is a helpful teacher.
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Hilary Says:
12 November 2009 at 5:14 am.
Hi Robin .. Alex (from iwalkdevon – here in the UK) mentions the words “I’m fine” and hits the point – as really we’re answering a question we don’t need to answer .. as we, at the time of loss, have not been asked the right question.
I hope that when they answer in a rather vague way “I’m fine” .. I’ll know I’ve not addressed where they are at – I haven’t been empathetic to their present feelings …
The other thing that I inadvertently did for my uncle-in-law – well his niece, whom I do not know that well .. but we’d become close in the last few weeks, as I was able to guide her and her father (90) and help them with Derek, keep in close contact etc and ensure that they could visit as often as they felt able to travel. Charlotte decided to do the tribute for her uncle, as others felt unable to do so .. I admire her for doing it – but I’d jotted down some comments I’d received in emails, letters and conversations, some of which she incorporated into the tribute – and which I have been able to include with a letter about the day and sent out to family and friends who were unable to attend – so they can have a last “feel” of that time.
I will start to do that for my mother .. as I keep forgetting things – after nearly 3 years I suppose it’s acceptable. One thing I laugh about, when she came back up from the hospital (quick in and out visit) the other day, since my uncle died, she said “if I have to go in an ambulance again – I’ll be dead!” .. she says what she means – but it made th staff laugh! People have written of the times she employed them – the happy comments .. and they’re the things we need to hear at funerals, or afterwards .. and to treasure. Mum says to me – it keeps the staff happy .. and obviously us all too.
Thanks – you have certainly opened peoples’ eyes .. a good experience for us all
Hilary
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Roger Says:
15 November 2009 at 12:05 pm.
Hi Robin,
This has been the most incredible series I have had the privilege of reading. This article especially strikes right in the center of my heart. I am so grateful to you for educating your readers on the isolation most feel when they lose a loved one.
In a past career, I took a lot of heat from coworkers regarding my approach to death. I spent nearly 20 years working as a paramedic responding to hundreds of homes where someone’s loved one had died. Most healthcare workers are trained on preventing death but receive almost no training on how to deal with family members of a person who has died. Typically when faced with this situation, it becomes a race to get out of the home as fast as the situation can be turned over to the coroner.
I can assure you that it is not easy to tell a wife, husband, parent that there is nothing I could do to save their loved one. Whenever possible, I would sit down with the grieving family in hopes of offering support in their grief. A few minutes of holding a widow’s hand while the reality of what had happened sank in was far less than what I wished I could do but in a small way allowed her to not go through it alone. It just felt wrong not to do it. Very few people understood why I did this and I am not sure myself other than a deep feeling that it was somehow important.
Fear of death causes many to run from anything that reminds them of their own mortality. In the process we allow those we should be embracing to suffer in silence. I believe this is why so many spouses die shortly after their partner. Hopefully through your wise words, more people will understand the unintended consequences of our silence and open our hearts to the needs of others during difficult times.
Thank you my dear Robin for the positive perspective you give the world.
Namaste
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Sandra Says:
16 November 2009 at 1:39 pm.
Robin,
Bravo! What a wonderful series. You are so right to be annoyed about how people treat those who are grieving. Because it makes so many people uncomfortable to face their own mortality they skirt the issue and do not offer real comfort to those in need. What you did by just listening to your friends is so crucial. All people need is the chance to grieve and have that dirty, messy, snotty cry without anyone judging them or quoting one of these obnoxious quotes, “ It is for the best, They are no longer suffering, and Time heals”
This is a very important post. Well done, sister friend!!!
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Megan "JoyGirl!" Bord Says:
17 November 2009 at 10:07 am.
Hi, Robin,
I just found your blog through Evita’s “Evolving Beings” blog, and I’m so glad she wrote about you. What you said here will make me think differently the next time I assume it’s more polite to avoid the topic of death, as opposed to connecting with someone who just lost a loved one. Your stories were so moving, and besides thinking you’re a phenomenally sweet and compassionate woman, I now think you’re rather inspirational, too. Thank you for sharing these stories and helping me view my role in consoling people differently.
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gene Says:
24 December 2009 at 11:31 pm.
Just a quick note!
Thank you for sharing this, I think most of us are like those people, not really asking how the person feels, and I’m guilty of that too.. We think that “my condolences” makes everything better!
Why that is, I think is because of the age and society we live in. I know everywhere there is violence and crime, but sometimes it feels like where I live it’s the Crime HQ of the world. Death here is such an everyday thing, and I’m not kidding, I only listen to the news when I’m driving in my car (Still no TV) and I think about every second day, if not everyday we hear about someone who was killed, be that a farm murder, a hijacking, or just a random killing, but here in SA it’s an everyday thing. We are so used to hearing all these deaths, surely by now everyone should be able to cope with death.. But sad truth, it’s still a personal and emotional loss, and we don’t think about that any more..
Thank you for this post, I can see that there are still kind souls on this earth and that makes me want to be one of those kind ones too..
Bless your heart!
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Robin Easton Reply:
November 5th, 2009 at 9:23 am
Dear Jonathan, this is a beautiful story. Just reading it filled me with Life and great joy. I literally felt uplifted or closer to Life. It sounds like it was one of those transforming experiences that is unforgettable. And she sounds like she was one heck of a dynamic lady, not only to have lived long, but more importantly to have lived well. Then to be able to choose her death when SHE was ready (to shut down her body) is quite remarkable. I can see that same inner strength of will in you. I value this story a lot and am glad you share it. Thank you my friend.
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