Green Funeral Fair

After a month of speaker events on death, Grace North Church of Berkeley culminated their ground-breaking (pun intended) program with a Green Funeral Fair.

I shared a booth at the fair with the volunteer coordinator, Merry, from Sutter VNA & Hospice where I am a volunteer. She was pushing advanced care directives and telling people about hospice volunteering. I brought a laptop with my film trailers and some DVDs. Didn't manage to sell any DVDs, but met a lot of nice people.

Vendor booths were all upstairs in a large room. On display: eco-caskets, funeral shrouds, home-based funerals, memory markers, high end art object urns, obituary writing help, books on death, caregiving and organizing, and more. I'll be sharing more information on these booth in subsequent blogs. As a tease, I've given you a couple of links. Stay tuned.

In addition to the upstairs room with all the vendors, the church sanctuary below had a full day of events and activities including: mask making, coffin painting, sugar scull decorating, wheat weaving, paper-flower constructing, live music, a sing-a-long with the Threshold Choir and a funeral hat parade and contest which I participated in, but unfortunately didn't win. Too bad. It was a $150 prize. The woman in the black veil won. There was a prize for the men too. With only three male entries, a much easier competition.

I had a great time meeting all the vendors. You can see my photos on my facebook site for Secrets of Life and Death (I hope the link works, if not, just search for Secrets of Life and Death in Facebook).

Congratulations to Grace North Church on trying something very different. Hope they do it again next year.

Hierophant and the Ego

The hierophant card of the Tarot was the subject of a recent discussion I had with a friend, a Sufi dance teacher. She said she always draws a blank when it appears in a reading. Historically, the card refers to a traditional religious leader. It certainly did not fit with any idea she had of herself or her dance work.

A student of hers, an anthropologist, offered an intriguing interpretation of the card: the hierophant as the giver of blessings or benedictions. Benediction, in old sense of the word, suggests a dual motion of ascending prayers and descending blessings. Up and down, up and down between heaven and earth, a lot like breathing, only a celestial breathing. The hierophant, in this view, is the instrument or intermediary of the heavenly blessing or heavenly breath. While a much more dynamic vision of the card, I had some reservations. Below are my musings as addressed to my friend (with editing).

In the William Blake tarot deck, the hierophant is called Religion. It recognizes the human need for spirituality and warns against the rationalization or codification of spirit through organized systems of religion. Blake had no great love for organized religion. In the Sufi work (according to the work of Sufi Master, Adnan Sarhan), the dance must always come from the moment. As long as you stay in the moment, the energy of spirit flows. The hierophant card can be seen as a warning against "the ego,” the ever lurking enemy of the moment. As soon as one thinks of oneself as "something special," i.e. “religious leader,” the moment vanishes into intellect and ego.

It can be dangerous to see oneself as a mediator or intermediary between your students and heaven. It is really a very traditional view -- that ordinary people cannot connect to the sacred or divine except through the intercession of a priest or spiritual leader. People do not need a mediator because heaven is inside, not outside and above. We do not need an intermediary to the divine because we all are part of the divine.

When a teacher is in the flow of spirit and students are in the vicinity of that energy, their own spirits are entrained. That is the dynamic of the Sufi work as I understand it. When in the moment, one vibrates at a higher frequency. That vibration stimulates or induces a similar vibration in the others. Like plucking a guitar string, the near-by strings also begin to vibrate. The stronger your vibration, the greater the effect. Eventually the students learn to vibrate on their own and thus access their own spirit. Of course the vibration is always stronger when surrounded by the vibration of others flowing in the moment. This is doubly true when near to someone strong in the practice of being in the moment.

The trick and warning of the hierophant is to be a teacher and yet not fall prey to the ego of teacher. Yes, all of the things you must do as teacher are true, like holding the space and making people feel safe and stepping in and taking action when someone falls out of the space, or disrupts the space. So it is necessary to acknowledge your self as a leader or teacher. At the same time, it is heady to be in the front, having people attending to your every word and action. The ego lurks.

In a way we are all teachers. We teach each other important lessons every time we come together (as in The Celestine Prophecy). Being conscious of being teacher is essential, but in an active way, in the verb sense of "I am teaching" as opposed to "I am THE TEACHER." As teacher, which in itself is an active noun, one enters the energy field of teacher, which included space holding and wide attention. Teaching in this way can bring you into another level of consciousness. You attention is alert, you are totally focused and aware, but the focus is outward or, perhaps to put it better, your “inside” expands to encompass the outer boundaries of your group. The group becomes your body and you are the brain or maybe the heart of that body. There can be no thought of the future or past. You must be totally in the moment, feeling through every sense and responding to each moment through intuition or what Adnan calls “intelligence.”

When I am facilitating a grief group or doing a screening/discussion of my films, I connect with the essence of the goddess Demeter -- mother goddess, all encompassing, watchful, loving, insuring her children are safe and growing. When I think of her, I connect to the love part of teaching. As long as I am in that love and in the doing, I can keep the ego trap of the hierophant at bay.

The Art of Being Present

At a screening of my film, Caring for Dying: the art of being present, there was a discussion on, well, the art of being present. When asked how one goes about "being present," the people in my audience had no ready answers. Yet, when I asked them to take a moment and check in with themselves, they quietly closed their eyes and looked inside. Perhaps they thought I was asking for something more esoteric. But no, being present is as simple as checking in with your self. Take a moment to look inside, feel your body, observe your feelings.

The problem is, we forget to do it. We don’t check in. We’re too busy, too worried, too uncomfortable and maybe too afraid. Afraid? Yes, I think so. Ever notice how uncomfortable people are with long silences or with having too much time on their hands? Don’t you take a book or magazine along when you expect to wait somewhere? We are afraid to look inside, afraid of what we might find, of what we are really feeling. That we really hate what we are doing, or we’ve screwed up or wasted our lives, or we are bored with our partner, tired of our children, unsure where we’re headed and we’re angry, pissed, sad, or just plain unhappy. Whoa, let’s not go there! Turn on the TV, call someone on your cell phone, clean the refrigerator. The irony is that there is really no fear in the present. There is no judgment, no shame, no blame. There is just -- presence. However (and there always is a however) to get there you might have to tamp down a lot of negative mind-noise first, a lot of internal ugly, judgmental monologue.

Eckart Tolle, the guru of the "present" and author of The New Earth and The Power of the Now, calls that mean, negative internal voice “the ego.” This is not the positive ego of “self esteem” fame, but closer to that “Whew, that guy’s got one big ego!” kind of ego. And, while we’re pointing a finger, be aware that we all have big egos, only they rarely make us feel big and important. Mostly they tear us down. And if they do build us up, tomorrow it will be down. Bet you that guy with the “big ego” is constantly being blasted by his, that’s why he’s so desperate to convince you and everyone else what a hotshot he is.

I like Tolle’s use of the term “ego” because it is the same word my Sufi teacher uses to refer to the “negative self.” -- the self that tries to sabotage all my efforts to hang out with my spiritual self. I already know a lot about this ego self. It’s what makes us worry about how we appear to others or how we measure up to some internalized value system of achievement. It is the voice that makes us uneasy and stressed. A low level hum of disquiet, “What did I forget?” “Please don’t let me screw this up!” “Oh God, I can’t believe I did that!” We run from this voice by staying busy, watching TV, drinking, eating or doing drugs -- anything to numb or dull the voice. But it never really goes away. It’s always in the background nipping at our heels.

The only real escape from the ego is to see it for what it is, to name it, recognize it and in doing so, to enter the moment. It’s my ego that’s making me feel bummed about the funding grant I didn't get for my film (that I didn’t have a snowballs chance in hell of getting any way.) Hi, Ego! Sounds easy. It is and it’s not. The ego is very strong, wily, willful beast that will not give up without a fight. The ego wants to be in control. I like this idea of an ego beast. The ego as something separate from ourselves. Years ago when I was working on my Ph.D thesis and getting booted out of my first teaching job I drew a picture of this snarling monster riding on my back. This was long before Sufi or Eckhart Tolle. I already knew inside what the ego was. I just didn't know how to get rid of it. I didn't know about the present.

Staying in the present takes concentration and discipline. The ego is always there slipping in thoughts about the past or future, worrisome thoughts about what you should really be doing or what you forgot to do. Each time the ego throws in these thoughts you have to pull away, stop the train and return to the emptiness of no thought. That is basically the essence of meditation. Of course it’s difficult to focus on nothing, so typically you focus on something like the breath or a mantra or a visual image. It takes practice. It takes the will to do it especially when you're feeling awful and would rather eat some ice cream.

There are other doors to the present – really any activity that puts you wholly in the moment of here and now, will do. Playing a musical instrument can do it. Dancing does it for me as long as I can stay away from the thought that other people are looking at me and maybe I should change what I’m doing because I’ve been doing the same stupid move for the last ten minutes. Opps, just lost my footing. Mountain climbers enjoy this focus because a momentary lapse could mean death. Nothing like a strong motivator. Unfortunately, we can’t run off to the mountain every time we need to check in with our self. And we really should do that a lot -- every time we feel stressed, or stuck or anxious or sad. Because those are all signs of ego intrusion. That’s why I like using the breath. It’s so portable.

The Breath is always there. Waiting for the bus? Breathe in, watch where the breath goes. Stumped on the next sentence for your funding proposal? Send the breath to various parts of the body. Notice how each area of the body feels. Had an argument with your partner? Play with the breath. Breathe in for five counts, hold for five counts, breathe out for five counts, hold for five counts and repeat. Lots you can do with your breath. Breathe until the mind empties and the heart and stomach feel calm. Enjoy the peace.

One more suggestion -- keep reading books, watching movies, talking to friends, writing blogs that encourage and remind you to stay present.

Word Power

The conversation at lunch began with polar bears and morphed into a discussion on the nature of gossip. Someone had read that a polar bear had successfully mated with a brown bear in the wild and this was a hopeful sign as the brown bear may be more adaptable to climate change than the polar bear.

How we got from bears to gossip is a bit complicated but had something to do with the need for humans to secure their own survival. We were all in agreement that humanity is at some risk given its slowness in responding to current environmental warnings. Then I brought up Don Miguel Ruiz’s Four Agreements, as a way of transforming us in positive ways that might be beneficial to our survival. The four agreements are: 1) be impeccable with your word; 2) don’t take things personally; 3) don’t make assumptions and 4) do your best. You may ponder for a moment how sticking to these agreements on a world-wide basis might play out.

Our discussion never got past the first agreement: be impeccable with your word. Words are powerful, according to Don Miguel. So watch what you say. Need I convince you about the power of words? You see it readily in advertising, politics, and the current media war over the Obama’s healthcare initiative. Government control vs. insurance company predation. We use words to define our reality.

The power of words also operates on the personal level as we define and judge ourselves and our friends in daily interactions. I casually say I’m no good at sales marketing and BOOM, it is so. A companion complains about the movie we are watching and KAZAM, I no longer enjoy it. Does it work when we say positive things too? That's what the power of positive thinking is all about. Sociologist Alfred Schutz, called this phenomenon the social construction of reality. We are continuously creating meaning and sustaining our social reality through conversation and on-going social interactions.

Gossip is one of the ways we use words in our social interactions that Don Miguel warns against. Simply put, we should not gossip about ourselves or anyone else. Oookay. But wait, what, exactly, is gossip? Is it only when we say something negative or judgmental, like “She’s so prickly, you can hardly say anything without her taking offense.” Our lunch group all agreed that this is clearly gossip. But what about positive comments and stories about someone? Is this gossip too? Don Miguel tells us yes, this too is gossip. Don’t do it!

Gossip, even when it is intended to be positive, might be misinterpreted or misconstrued in a negative way. A member of our lunch group gave an example. When she was a child her mother would say to others (about her), “Oh, she’s so creative.” At first blush, this statement would seem pretty positive. But the woman always wondered if it was not a cover-up for some awful inadequacy. Perhaps she was not very bright and being “creative” was her compensation. Oooh, we all nodded our heads, getting the idea. We could inadvertently hurt someone by talking about them even when we think we’re being positive. And certainly in the case of positively gossiping about yourself, you might be perceived as bragging or full of ego, not the intended consequences at all. Ok. OUT WITH ALL GOSSIP!

Uh, have you ever tried to give up gossip? Dang, it’s hard enough to give up even the negative gossiping. Are we really being asked to refrain from all storytelling? What will we talk about? How will we keep up-to-date on all our friends? Ok, we could check out their facebook and twitter entries. But come on, it’s not the same is it? Besides, I like the stories we share about what is going on in each other’s lives. Could there be a gender bias here? I’ve noticed that my husband is not much of a gossiper. He’ll talk on the phone for an hour with a mutual friend and then I get two sentences out of him about what’s up. Don Miguel, give us gals some slack here. What if we purge our stories of all judgment or opinion. “Nothing but the facts, mam.” Like ah, like a NEWS REPORT! Ahhh, yesss. One can certainly see the potential for self-delusion as we slide down that slippery slope.

Last defense! Story telling is a great way of conveying important lessons, insight and discoveries. Like the example I gave above of my lunch group friend -- much more effective than explaining things theoretically. But wait, you don’t know who she is, so maybe that’s not gossiping.

I’ve been struggling with this for several months (hence the lag in my blog entries). What do you think? Try not gossiping for a day and report back. But remember not to gossip when you do.

And what does all this have to do with death? Can we gossip about the dead?

Surrendering to the Angel of Death

In his book The Four Agreements, Don Miguel Ruiz , writes about “surrendering to the angel of death". By this he means accepting the impermanence of everything, e.g. our cars, our pets, our jobs, our health, our partner. Nothing really ever belongs to us. It’s all on loan and death can take it at any time. As a friend recently said to me, "There are no luggage rack on a hearse." Yet we all go through life acting as though things will go on as they always have. Then we are shocked and angered when doesn’t. Ow, you say, why do I want to think about that? Let me enjoy my happy ignorance while it lasts. Well, maybe it’s not so happy. A lot of thought and energy is wasted every day on resistance to change -- both the big changes like losing a partner all the way down to the little ones, like a co-worker suddenly snapping at you at the office.

 Our tendency to see things as constant or permanent is a trick of the mind, our ability to remember things and hold them in our thoughts. This is all well and good and even useful until our memory latches on to something unpleasant. Then we can be stuck in our pain for a long time as we play the memory over and over again. We live in our unhappy past while life moves on. The Iranian film, Willow Tree by Majid Majidi, provides a sobering illustration of this trap. In the film, a middle-aged man, blinded in a chance accident when he was a child, has his sight restored by an operation. In the beginning he is so happy as he watches with ecstasy the progress of an ant on his windowsill in the hospital. But very soon his new sight fills him with disappointments. He discovers that his wife is not as beautiful as other women, that his home is not so luxurious as his uncles, that his scholastic achievements as a blind man are insignificant compared to what he might have done had he not been blind. He becomes more and more miserable, trapped in the past of what might have been. As fate would have it, he loses his sight again.

 Surrendering to the angel of death inoculates us against the negative habits of memory by teaching us acceptance, even appreciation of what is. I have been trying to work on this in small ways. Like surrendering to the inevitable and never-ending disappointments of traffic – someone driving too slow in front of me, just missing the green at a light that stays red too long, being cut off by a car that didn’t stop at its stop sign. It’s not as easy as it sounds. I am aware of speeding up as a car creeps by mine, so he won’t cut in front of me. It take major effort to lighten the weight of my foot on the gas pedal. But then I remember my dear friend, Marianne, who died last December to a nasty cancer at the age of 53. Traffic loses its importance and acceptance is a piece of cake. 

The Season of Death

Earlier this month the seminar/screening of my film, Caring for Dying was cancelled because there were an insufficient number of preregistrations. It was scheduled for Saturday morning, April 4^th, a day both mild and sunny with flowers bursting out from the recent rains. The beckoning of my garden and the park was irresistible. One could hardly blame people for not coming to an event focused on death. It seemed out-of-season.

 I have found, by contrast, that October-November is an ideal time to contemplate mortality -- with its fallen leave, yellow grasses, Halloween and El Dia de la Muerte (the day of the dead). You can almost feel the veil thinning between the worlds of here and there. So I often schedule my film screenings around that time. But I know that, in reality, the "season for death" is an illusion. Death takes us, our friends and our relatives at any time regardless of the weather outside. I experienced this first hand one lovely morning last May when a phone call stopped me in my tracks with the news that my brother, barely 51, had died suddenly in his sleep. Heart attack?  Sleep apnea?  We never found out. I admit, it was very difficult to take in as I strolled among the song birds and daffodils trying to decide what to do.

 I read somewhere that Hare Krisna devotees chant "hare krishna" over and over so that when death comes, they will die with the name of God on their lips. It is taught in the Hindu tradition, that dying with God’s name on your lips is a way of consciously returning to the source. Stephen Levine explains in his book Who Dies, that American Indians learn a death chant during a rite-of-passage vision-quest to be used during times of danger and illness. Death is met with power and clarity, not weakness and despair. In our western culture, death is often perceived as downer, a conversation stopper. And when we do consider death it is in that dutiful, teeth-clenching way of alleviating the burden to our families with our long-term care policies, DPAs, and living trust. Don’t get me wrong, I approve of such pre-planning. But besides making the process of death go more smoothly there is another reason to consider the subject -- it can make for a better life.

 Whoa, you say, how can contemplating anything as depressing as death make my life better? As Frank Ostaseski says in the film Caring for Dying, “Being with dying, is the most life affirming thing that I know how to do. It shows me what’s really important in my life. And I tend not to waste so much time now.” When a close friend died this past December, my husband and I spent four days clearing out her tiny apartment and another three clearing out her two and a half storage lockers. The accumulation of a lifetime scattered to the four winds. After finishing with her lockers we immediately started on our own closets, not because we wanted to spare someone else the burden, but because in the face of death, well, a lot of our stuff lost its meaning. We’re still sorting it out.

Life Post-Mortem

I just finished reading Carolyn North's piece on life-after-death. While researching for her book, "The Experience of a Life Time: Living Fully, Dying Consciously" she came across a number of channeled accounts about the after-life, from different countries and decades apart, with startlingly similar information. She combined the different reports into an imagined chat between her and these emissaries from the other side. Among her informers were TE Lawrence (known as Lawrence of Arabia) and Arthur Conan Doyle (author of the Sherlock Holmes series). It is a fascinating read which dovetails with several other descriptions of the after-life including the movie "What Dreams May Come" featuring Robin Williams and James Redfield's book, "The Tenth Insight." At the same time, it allows for a Tibetan or Buddhist vision of death. It is a sobering idea to think we have come into this world to accomplish certain things that will have an impact not only in this life but in the next. Check it out: Life Post-Mortem.

The other shot we need to take for the "Old Man, Old Woman" folktale was tossing a rock into the water.  You can guess where this might be going.  So I had all these large pieces of volcanic rock which were pretty light and so easy to toss.  Unfortunately they occasionally floated.  The other problem was the ducks who got very interested in what we were doing and got into our shot.  I lost a lot of my rocks chasing the ducks away.

Production photos

In creating the opening folktale for the film, "Old Man, Old Woman," I went with my camera operator to a park to get shots of me tossing a cowpie into the pond.  This happens when Old Man suggests that the matter of death be decided by throwing a buffalo chip into the river.  It was suppose to be a buffalo chip but alas, no buffalo to be found.  And it was suppose to be a river, but hey, the pond had a little current.  I am not a very good shot so we had to do this take over and over again.  I thought we got a pretty nice shot in the end.