Grieving through the apocalypse

End of Life Matters

End of life Doula Melissa Murphy, a companion, guide and resource supporting our community in end of life matters.

www.starsbeyondourskin.com 

This week was my husband’s birthday and, to my delight, I was convinced I’d found the ultimate sentiment for this occasion. The greeting is an image of two doves in a flowering tree with an endless galaxy in the background. The message read “There’s no one I’d rather spend the apocalypse with.” How apt I thought – perfectly poignant. Later, we enjoyed a celebratory meal that included a tasting of ‘World’s End’ imperial stout courtesy of West Cork’s own Black’s Brewery. These moments still seem comical, but the truth of the matter is I’ve been feeling it – like ‘really’ feeling it, bodily, emotionally and spiritually. Doom and gloom. Yes, the end of life doula, ponderer of life and death on the daily. My mind works like this: continually wanting to analyse and narrow down the whys of such melancholy. Is it my age, this season of life, that I’ve done some profoundly deep grief work over the past couple of months? Perhaps, but it feels altogether different yet, as is typical, I trust I’m not alone here. I’ve come across others expressing woes of uncertainty and often I sense a depth of much left unsaid by those I meet. I would understand completely if you decide to read no further. It’s summertime and we all know the dreams these days hold – schools are out, holidays abound, the calendar quickly fills with entertainment, visitors appear from near and far, aspiration surges for even more time outdoors and so on. If your tendency is to “get on with it” or “keep calm and carry on,” maybe this column isn’t for you. Although it’s doubtful these mantras are sustainable for these times – if ever they were.

Today while entering a shop, someone strode past me and, with a quick glance, I saw the creepy imagery paired with ‘The Walking Dead’ on their t-shirt solidifying my choice for this topic. I smirked to myself – as I’m one to do – gratefully, no matter how heavy things get. In my younger years, that very image was what I associated with the so-called ‘end of times’. Thanks to films (funny though as I haven’t seen any of them) – featuring zombies, perished landscapes – catastrophe beyond comprehension. I never believed life would really come to that. It all felt like more of a myth – the way I perceive hell fire and the like. A world of collective stories of the human imagination. And if we look at the root meaning of the ‘A’ word coming from the Greek ‘apokalypsis’ it means revelation, uncovering, disclosure. In other words, the literal meaning is to uncover or reveal something that was previously hidden. I’ll spare you, dear reader, from reviewing innumerable world events, as I firmly believe at this stage there are enough of us feeling the lived expression “these times are a changin’!” Whatever you call it or if you feel only some resonance, without a doubt you’re more often hearing references to “our troubled world” or “these troubled times” everyday. I’ve also come across explanations such as “It’s happened before and it’s happening again.” Regardless, I wish to give it space; feeling it’s reached (dare I say) a peak of sorts at this moment in time. Speaking to those of older generations, it feels somewhat comforting(?) to be reminded that humankind has gone through such times before. Remembering my ancestors – what they lived through – heck even what I’ve lived through but was too young to digest and – yet. This feels like A LOT, no? And I feel a necessity to express it. A few other reflections I’ve come across: “the old world is dying…” or “now is the time of the long dark…” They are certainly interesting mythologies and philosophies to investigate. They’re also not as terrifying as they might sound to someone unfamiliar. Once again, I don’t wish to dwell or attempt to find meaning, only highlight this moment woven into our collective consciousness. What I’m curious to know is how are you, mighty reader, (as you continue reading on) meeting life/living as well as all that’s dying/in and around us? A lofty reflection but one I’m hungry to explore. There are times when I feel it’s helpful for me to be busy doing things that sing to me such as travelling or investing finite time in new experiences. At other times, I engage in being with grief and loss – really going to an edge; time and again finding an unexpected brilliance (love) that reveals itself – a mystery, miracle or perhaps the natural way of things – this polarity. On other occasions, I try to do neither – instead creating space to slow down and see what arises. But the enormity of this apocalypse – (the first time I am freely using the word by the way) – remains prominent lately (broadly speaking). I’m without  answers – only ideas personal in nature. This piece is an acknowledgement and contemplation of  being alive to – and with – it. Even as I write, I feel a kind of emptiness and underlying anxiety, a tension/congestion in areas of my body and a fatigue that has urged me to pause more than usual over the last while. Again, not answers but a sharing some things that have felt like droplets of medicine recently – many unplanned: writing notes in cards and sending by snail mail to a few people who wouldn’t expect to receive them, heart to heart conversations with folks I don’t know well (or at all) in person or on the phone, taking breaks from all sources of news, being extra soft and kind with myself in the way I speak/move/think, smiling and often meeting the eyes of strangers, prioritising sleep, water intake and rest (as in slowing down: periods of just being – sitting in the grass, wandering in the garden, cuddling with my dogs), letting it all come – crying, laughing, screaming, sighing, other such audibles – as much as they needs to (and if I’m in a public space, taking it to my car so as to not hold back) enjoying memes/jokes – especially the dark kind- that directly speak to the state of things (one of the only reasons I still use social media), and last but not least, poetry – like a skin saving balm – and again, the closer it’s in theme with the now, the better. Here is one that found me this week from a site called ‘@poetry is not a luxury’. At the risk of sounding like an advice-giver, this reminds me to come back to the now, to find joy and beauty in the everyday, to create (and hold fast!) to calm moments…

‘It could happen any time, tornado, / earthquake, Armageddon. It could happen. / Or sunshine, love, salvation.

It could, you know. That’s why we wake / and look out- no guarantees / in this life. / But some bonuses, like morning, / like right now, like noon, like evening.’

– ‘Yes’ by William Stafford from ‘The Way It Is’, 1994

To learn more or to connect with Melissa, email her at starsbeyondourskin@gmail.com or visit www.starsbeyondourskin.com. She also welcomes your questions or ideas for future columns.

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