Death As Teacher
NATURE IS A BEAUTIFUL TEACHER.
The seasons show us the time for nurturing, growth, harvest and death. Spring is the period of rebirth after death. The period of grieving the death and rebirthing into something new - a new version - a transformed version of our self.
As we sit in the days before the Winter Solstice we are in the period of dying and death as taught by Nature. The Winter Solstice, with its shorter days and longer nights, often invites reflections on the theme of death as part of the natural cycle of life. In this season, nature seems to withdraw into itself, embracing a period of dormancy and rest. It's during these darker days that we're reminded of the profound teachings that can be found in the concept of death.
Just as nature sheds its leaves and enters a phase of apparent stillness, so too can we contemplate the lessons that death offers. It's not merely an end but a transition—a gateway to transformation and renewal. Death, in its many forms, invites us to reflect on impermanence, teaching us about the transient nature of life and the importance of cherishing each moment.
The winter season serves as a poignant reminder that periods of darkness and introspection are integral to growth. In this darkness, we find the space for introspection, for nurturing our inner selves, and for contemplating the mysteries of existence.
Embracing the teachings of death can allow us to cultivate gratitude for the present moment, to let go of what no longer serves us, and to welcome the opportunity for new beginnings. It's in acknowledging the cycles of life and death that we can truly appreciate the beauty of the journey we're on.
As we move through this period of darkness before the rebirth of light on the Solstice, may we honor the wisdom that death imparts. Let's embrace this time for reflection, for shedding what is no longer needed, and for preparing ourselves for the forthcoming moments of renewal and growth.
Grief is a skill
Grief is a skill, something that we do after the death of something (that something can be the death of a relationship, a person, job or even idea). The more invested we are emotionally in “the something”, the more we have to process. And so our grieving process may be more intense or be longer. We may have to live through a long, hard winter. It can be painful. It is hard.
The thing with grief is that it doesn't have a timeline attached to it. You have to do it at some point and it takes as long as it takes. And if you don't do it in the time that it asks of you, we hold on to it in our bodies and the next loss we experience, we now have the cumulative grief to process.
Imagine escaping to a far-off land where there is no winter per se, you feel like you may be able to escape the grief, but the work remains for you when you return.
Grief is a reminder of the loss of that which was significant to us. Perhaps it was significant to our identity, to our heart, to our being. It is also a reminder that life is constantly changing just like the seasons that pass us by. And yet, the tree remains the tree and in the spring it will sprout its leaves and grow again.
Persephone and Demeter
When we think of the fable of Persephone. She is taken by Hades to God of the Underworld. Persephone’s mother Demeter, Goddess of the Harvest, is grief-stricken by the loss of her daughter and the lands become barren.
She searches the earth for her daughter and finally begs Zeus to assist her. Zeus, knowing that his brother has taken Persephone, agrees to negotiate for her release but also admits that he didn’t tell Demeter because it was time for her to allow her daughter to grow from Maiden to Mother.
Since Persephone had eaten 6 pomegranate seeds she could spend 6 months above ground and the remaining 6 months in her role as Queen of the Underworld alongside Hades. And so winter is a time of death and grief.
It is also a reminder that we must grow and transition into the next phase of our life. All things change and so must we.
Death as our Teacher
What can death teach us?
Death can teach us that it is a necessary part of the cycle of life. Life is not only the parts that we choose to like/enjoy but the full experience including the pain and challenge. We have been given teachers in Nature all around us to show us that after death, life does not stop but continues on and that which was there before is reborn into something new.
How can parts of you be reborn?
I recently re-watched Griefwalker, a documentary based on the work of Stephen Jenkinson.
"Grief is not a feeling. it's what you do. It's a skill. And its twin is to praise and love life." Stephen Jenkinson.
A question I ponder (and realize more and more is true): the more strongly I live my life deeply embodied with the wisdom I will die, the more likely I will know I am dying when that time comes. I will have little need for some outside voice to tell me what is happening within me. I see death and carry Him with me as I see Grief, his demanding sibling, and carry her with me too. And it is with these two that I love this life that I am honoured to live. How strongly are you in your life right now?
Can you carry this wisdom with you and allow it to enrich your life and embolden you to live a fulfilled life of your own design?
What parts of that which has died do you want to carry with you so it/they may live on?
How can you take those parts into your heart and make it a part of who you are that will make you stronger, wiser, and richer?
Does the weight of which you carry feel too heavy?
Is it time to be more discerning about what you carry forth?
What parts are yours and what no longer belongs to you?
If death is our teacher, what is it teaching you?
The Winter Solstice marks a pivotal moment in the cyclical dance of nature—a time that holds profound symbolism and echoes of prophecy. It signifies the longest night of the year, a time when darkness seemingly holds sway, but it also heralds the return of the sun, promising the gradual resurgence of light and warmth.
In its essence, the Winter Solstice carries a prophecy of renewal and hope. As the wheel of nature turns, it whispers of the inevitability of change and the assurance that, even in the darkest moments, there exists the potential for light to re-emerge.
In our lives, the Winter Solstice can serve as a symbolic prophecy—an assurance that after times of darkness and introspection, there will be a dawn of new opportunities, growth, and transformation.
Let's draw inspiration from the Solstice to envision our journeys, acknowledging that even in the bleakest of moments, the potential for a brighter future lies ahead. This prophecy invites us to trust in the natural cycles of life, embracing the wisdom that darkness precedes light and that each phase holds its beauty and purpose in the grand tapestry of existence.
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Note: Griefwalker is available to watch on the National Film Board site for free.