29 Dec Dying Into the Mystery

People often ask me how I can bear to work with people who are going to die. “Isn’t it too sad?”, they ask. I am always taken aback by the question because I rarely think about hospice work in those terms. Mostly, like so many who do this work, I feel the privilege of having a passport that allows me entry into the intimacy of people’s lives during one of life’s most vulnerable experiences. It can be sad & joyful, heart-wrenching & comforting, stressful and uplifting, chaotic & peaceful, terrifying & graceful, surprising and reassuring, uncertain and true—and most often it’s poignant & gratifying. It is a caldron of human emotions and circumstances—all of us beginners even when we’ve accompanied dying before. We never know what will happen or how people will respond—even when we are told what to expect. We can predict, surmise, statisticate and control, but each person dies their way–no two alike.

To spend time in the company of people who are grappling with such profound loss & letting go is hallowed territory. Messy, imperfect and real. There’s not much room for pretending or faking it. No time for trying to look good or appear better than we think we really are. Dying strips those of us within its sphere of our security blanket of money, status, beauty, and material things which have bolstered our fragile egos & lured us into a false cocoon-like protection. Dying asks us to surrender all that we have clung to — we are forced to loosen our white knuckled grip little by little.

And then, like in the aftermath of a devastating storm, we catch a glimpse of an unexpected beauty that we cannot believe is hidden in the terrible rubble. We taste & see beyond the ugliness with a clarity we barely believe or understand. What is it? The air is bitter and sweet—we feel compelled to whisper and tiptoe in such Mystery. What is happening? Where did they go? Are they still here and we just can’t see them? How can so many people have died and we still don’t really know this unsolved mystery?