2021: A Year to Die For
“Death is not the opposite of life. Life has no opposite. The opposite of death is birth. Life is eternal.”
- Eckhart Tolle
I received a beautiful message from a friend this morning reflecting on death and endings, and the love that continues on through life, during death, and beyond. It reminded me of this quote by Eckhart Tolle, which I’m learning to apply not only to death but also to things that feel like death, like being separated by time and space. I’m currently living in Denmark, surrounded by friendship and love, but far away from other friends and family, who I would love to be hugging and celebrating with as we ring in the new year.
A good friend of mine is going through a difficult time having just found out her father had a stroke and will likely pass away soon (“soon” is relative—we are all going to pass away soon when we look at the vastness of time). Pain is a visceral and beautiful part of her experience as she is confronted with the reality of her father’s imminent passing. I often hate to be feeling pain in the moment, but in retrospect see it as a wake up call from life, prodding me to feel my aliveness, to be inside this present moment.
I was talking with her yesterday and realized that even though I’ve never met her father, he is very real to me. Even though technically I’d be able to meet him in person, I already know him as a spirit. It struck me that this is the same way he will live on after he goes—through her and the people who love him. Life is eternal. We touch who we touch while we’re here and when we go, the way we’ve touched them will live on in them, even if they never utter our names again.
I’m reflecting on this thinking of my own parents and how I am far away from them right now, in a time when many people are physically distancing from their loved ones. In a way, I feel the spirit of my parents even more strongly now than I did when I was living with them. When I’m distant, I feel closer to what matters in our relationship. It distills my experience with them into only the most potent parts, the truest truths, the loviest love. I think the same is true in death. It can be a process of clearing away everything that doesn’t matter and focusing only on the eternal nature of life and love. It’s a death to the bullshit and birth to the real shit.
The beautiful part is we don’t need to wait for death to experience the death of our bullshit—the stories that keep us from fully expressing our love and truth. As a seemingly morbid (but to me, enlivening) practice, I am asking myself, “If I were to die or lose someone today, is there anything I need to express or clarify with any person?” In my book, this is only way I know how to prepare for death—living without holding back, expressing my deepest truth without being silenced by fear (my deepest truth is always love, even if I have to go through some layers of “partial truth” to get there).
It’s funny to be talking about death on New Year’s Day, but I see how it is so linked to my intentions for this new beginning. I want to live every day with the aliveness I’d feel if I were to die tomorrow, expressing my love as freely as I would if it were my last breath. I suppose I can start by pressing “publish” on this blog post for the first time in exactly a year. I’m grateful for the life I’ve been given, and I want to share that by relaxing into the flow of it—letting my insides come out of me without worrying too much about how they will land. This is a good time to mention I’m going to be relaunching my podcast with a new name—“Casual Ecstasy,” which is essentially the feeling I’m describing here. Living in lighthearted acceptance of the present moment, our inevitable death, the eternity of life. It sounds heavy, but I think it will also be funny, because life is very funny when we’re willing to look at it honestly.
It has been such an honor to spend this time with you inside of your brain and heart (inside of our brains and hearts). I send you so much love this New Years Day, or any day you might be reading this, and all of your days to come. Now I will go live in the moment by eating a mango in (near) the snow.
Love,
Katie
Me: “I’m surrounded by all of my favorite things!!”
Joshua: “Oh? Me and this mango you just met?”
Snow!! Love!! Mangoes (not pictured)!! My favorite things!!
Happy New Year!! I love you!!