Exactly one week prior to James’ mom’s medically-assisted death this past Sunday, I leave town for a previously-scheduled teaching commitment and James sets his most empowered, organized self in motion. Mother and son spend the week tending to her affairs, closing accounts and writing letters to her friends and family, which I’ll transcribe onto pieces of her watercolor paintings and send.
On my end, I enter much-anticipated time of learning and offering. Night one finds me listening to
contextualizing and reciting his poetry to a room of about seventy of us. Hard to believe how appropriately timed this is.Seated near, gleaming hair and clear composure, a woman compels me to glance in her direction more than once. Soon I’ll learn this is
, the poet’s wife, with whom I share several mutual close friends. Her robust intellect and enormous heart will seal it once we meet; we’ll decide we’ll knit ourselves a friendship within a couple of days. But I don’t know this yet.Observing carefully as he recites in his classes, David’s poetry brings our collective vulnerabilities into coherence, walking us through the most treacherous mountain passes of our emotional lives to return us home safely again. After two more of his talks, I choose “The Bell and The Blackbird” for James’ mom’s ceremony.
Subsequent classes with Roshi Joan Halifax, Frank Ostaseski, Dr. Elissa Epel, Cynda Rushton. Meals with delicious friends, humans making good in this world by asking more questions. Frank and Roshi remind me of the importance of my quiet presence, among so many erudite insights, more to come on their offerings as weeks unfold.
All of this with our deep gratitude to Sierra Campbell of Nurture for initiating our cascading consciousness regarding death several years ago.
But this is about Lou, heading home.
Hilma Af Klint, Group X, Altarpieces No. 1, which we placed in Lou’s house during her final days.
Gathering at her house just before 9am, three friends, her niece, James, her doctor, the Reverend, and me, I set up for tea. As everything settles, I don’t speak much, except to remind us that death is an extremely trustworthy process.
We begin with the poem.
“The Bell and The Blackbird”
The sound of a bell
still reverberating,
or a blackbird calling from a corner of the field,
asking you to wake
into this life, or inviting you deeper
into the one that waits.Either way takes courage.
Either way wants you to be nothing
but a self that is no self at all,
wants you to walk
to the place
where you find
you already know
how to give every last thing away.The approach that is also
meeting itself
without any
meeting
at all.That radiance
you have always
carried with you
as you walk
both alone
and completely
accompanied
in friendship
by every corner
of the world
crying
Allelujah
Her friends all repeated “Allelujah” at the end. Stunning.
For the friends I serve Shaman’s Drum, a 1980s pu’erh. For Lou, rose petals. We drink in silence until the third pour, when James is moved to speak of a story he doesn’t want to forget, finding a secret garden on their adventure in Venice, crying copious, sweet tears. On the last pour, tea sister Mia Maestro suggested to place dried chrysanthemum flowers in the pot, honoring her transition to the other side of the mountain, which I do.
After tea, I quietly begin clearing the service, leaving a small altar on the table, with the remainder of Lou’s rose petal tea plus one pink rose, three chrysanthemums and her final Daily Ceremony pull: Connection.
She begins seeing each of us one at a time to exchange final words—the most beautiful hush comes over the room—whispers of gratitude, love, farewell, softness, courage.
Slowly Lou makes her way into bed for the last time. Her doctor brings the concoction that will slow her heart and peacefully shut down her organs. As this happens, I put on a track she loves, “The Heart Sutra” by Neill.
Song begins, she settles in, asking, “Is this the Heart Sutra?”
Those were her last words.
We love you, Lou; Tony and Jonah too. You’re forever here with each of us.
Welcome to Softening Time, a newsletter mostly about learning, listening and our subtle transformations. Explore books, courses and artwork. Feel free to subscribe or leave a comment; I’ll respond to each one.
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Expect sitting time, a short talk, ask me anything and prompts for your heart.
This. Exquisite in every way. I’m touched all the way to the insides of my bones. This, your words, the details of these final moments all feels simply like LOVE. Thank you.
"Is this the heart sutra?" words that will reverberate like the sound of the bell. Enormous gratitude for you and James and Lou for allowing us to witness this beautiful way of living.