My Journey through “642 Things To Write About Me” continues and today’s random flip has taken me to: Whose death in your life hit you hardest, and how did you cope with the situation over the next month?
Well this is a heavy topic. It is interesting because fear of death is the reason we fail to transcend. Yogi Bhajan tells a story of a woman wanting to hire him so he could teach her how to live. He said he could not, but he could teach her how to die. Yoga is all about death…death of the ego, death of attachments and finally the merger with the infinite, the ultimate death. It sounds beautiful to the individual practicing and crossing over, but not so beautiful to the folks left behind who desire to engage on a material level with the person they have lost.
I have lost all four grandparents. Dorothy to Alzheimers after a 15 year battle, Paul to cancer on Christmas day, Haskil and Myrtle to the process of aging. I feel like I lost my dad a long time ago. He left when I was twelve and was in and out of my life. I haven’t seen him in 16 years. That non death death is odd. It was hard to grieve for my father’s parents because after he left I didn’t really see them too much again. They seemed like strangers by time they died. I did grieve for the loss of my mother’s parents, but I was honestly happy for them to live so long and mostly sad for my mother…watching her grieve.
The grief for my father is stuck in limbo.
When I was eight years old my cat, Bubs, got hit by a car. He was truly my best friend. I was an odd and socially awkward child and spent most of my time alone (still do and am). We did everything together and he was always by my side. I remember coming home from school and my dad had put him in a cardboard box. He had blood on his face. My dad was a hard man. He couldn’t stand any extremes of emotion so I think I might haver cried and then pretended everything was okay. Every day for the next month I would get on the bus for school and start crying. I cried all day at school to the point the teachers didn’t know what to do with me and just sent me to the back of the room to lie on the fluffies and cuddle with the toys. After school I would get off the bus and stop crying and start pretending everything was okay again so not to upset my dad.
I don’t know why in our culture we are only given a month to grieve. We don’t have any good rituals either. Death makes everyone so uncomfortable. I have never grieved well myself, so I don’t have words of wisdom for those in grief. I simply imagine with 8 billion folks on the planet there are 8 billion ways to grieve, all are appropriate.
The Kundalini tradition (really it’s Sikh) is to chant “Akal” three times when a person passes. Akal means undying and is chanted to honor the person who has died and to help guide the soul to the Naad or the sound current which is God.
“And it was your faith and belief and your prayer as a power of the word and the power of the breath of
life you put behind it, without asking, ‘For whom? Who? Why? What happened? Give us the explanation.’ In the goodness of your heart you know this will work and when you are asked, you volunteer. You can do it for a king, you can do it for a beggar, but all you know is that the soul of the person is free. That is your longing. That is your Infinite longing.” ~ Yogi Bhajan
Peace, Pamela
*The sole purpose of these articles is to provide information about the tradition of ayurveda, yoga, and meditation. This information is not intended for use in the diagnosis, treatment, cure or prevention of any disease. If you have any serious acute or chronic health concern, please consult a trained health professional who can fully assess your needs and address them effectively. Check with your doctor before taking herbs or using essential oils when pregnant or nursing.