[Alder]

Be at Peace, dear Friend. You have had to endure the death of your mother, and that has affected you profoundly. In our culture, we do not have many good rituals to help us accept the process of dying. It is often not well handled for either the person dying or those who are close to her. Much of our medical technology is designed out of fear of death, not acceptance of it. We try to cut ourselves off from it, numb ourselves to it, sanitize it, and what you experienced is the consequence.

Trust your heart, and your body. You say in your signature line, "Only in death can we be our true selves." This is true indeed. Being born (and giving birth, from the point of view of the mother), having sexual intercourse, and dying are the three great quintessentially human experiences. In the physical process of these acts, we confront the most fundamental ground of our being as humans, and in those processes the boundaries that separate us as individuals from the rest of the universe are erased for a moment. Each of these processes is a labor of sorts on a physical level. It is hard work for the body, an effort, a strain, that causes transformation in breath and blood and bone. In this world we have different nationalities, ethnicities, socio-economic and educational classes, different jobs, different customs, different beliefs. But in the acts of birth, sex, and dying we share an experience with all other humans everywhere upon the earth, and with our most remote ancestors and distant descendants. These acts are hard, yes. Painful and upsetting they may be. Definitely messy, sweaty, awkward. All the things our society tries to prudishly deny.

You had the courage to be born. In your infant body was the wisdom of how to do it, just as your mother knew how to give birth to you, and went through that experience that is a courage and a radiance beyond the knowledge of any man. Trust, too, that your body, composed of atoms that have been taking and letting go of forms organic and inorganic for five billion years, knows well how to die, when it is time.

My wife "went natural" in the birth of our children, and described it as "a hoot." That is somewhat rare. It is also rare, especially in our culture, to find men and women who experience dying in a way in which their sense of wonder eclipses whatever fear or pain they feel. But it is not unheard of. Our society is beginning to realize that natural childbirth is a peak experience of female empowerment. Women have the right to fully experience this miracle, instead of being pressured to become helpless and dehabilitated and sedated, and that is better for both the mother and the child unless a specific medical condition prevents it. But our culture is still backward about dying. Surely there is a place for analgesic medication. But many of today's doctors use too many procedures to regulate and sanitize the dying process, and far too much sedation, leaving the dying person lost in a morphine haze, deprived of dignity.

Birth, sex, death. In the end how can we say of these things that they are good or bad? They are. We are born, we breathe the free air, we break bread and drink wine and water with our loved ones, we have sex, and we die. In the moment of our deaths and in the process of dying that leads up to it, no less and no more than in those other human activities, is all the weakness, the limitedness, the helplessness, and the magnificent glory of our existence as human beings.

It is all right to be terrified. Being brave does not mean not having fear; it means going ahead despite your fear. Trust that when the time comes, you will be brave. You will go through the process with dignity, showing nothing but love and compassion and understanding for your failing body. Your body may experience struggle, tension, air hunger. But you will be able to say to it, It's all right. Relax. You don't need to keep struggling, you don't need air any more. I won't force you to hold on when it is time to let go.

Trust that you can do that. And then let it go. We none of us know when La Senora Calavera will come to us. It may be years and years for you. For now, be open to the sunlight on your face and the wind and the water and the good earth. Reach out in compassion and love to everyone around you, having learned through the traumatic experience of your mother's death that we are all brothers and sisters, we are all given this world, this life, and we all die as humans. All boundaries we place between each other are false. Let your grieving give you wisdom, let it make of you a person who can bring healing and peace to all you meet.

May you be Blessed,

Alder