By Debra Basham, on February 13, 2015 Japanese Zen masters sometimes know when they are going to die.
Once master Hofaku called his monks together and said: “This last week my energy has been draining – no cause for worry. It is just that death is near.”
A monk asked: “You are about to die! What does it mean? We will go on living. And what does thatmean?”
“They are both the way of things,” the master replied.
“But how can I understand two such different states?”
Hofaku answered: “When it rains it pours,” and then calmly died.
She has been my friend, student, colleague, mentor, and soul mate. My heart is overflowing with the blessings of having her in my community and in my life. Today is the last day at her current work, and she is moving to another state.
How do we survive the loss? What supports adjusting to the changes? Is it possible we can experience a skillful goodbye?
I remember well meeting with a young couple after she had decided to stop all treatment and to consciously die. We created her Celebration of Life ceremony (she crossed every “T” dotted every “I”). The deeper work, however, revolved around how to consciously let go of life as they had known it, and to welcome the next chapter.
We sat in her hospital room, just the three of us. I asked them to close their eyes and to begin exploring what it was like to feel their connection without relying on their physical senses of sight and sound and touch. “Imagine you are able to slip your consciousness out of your body, float to a meeting place in the middle of the room, and enjoy being together without skin on.” They were familiar with animal spirits, having been actively involved with a Native American Shaman.
Holding that space, breathing with them, and choosing to be willing to feel my own quivering heart. How would I be handling things if I were the mom of a six-year old son letting go of my physical life? It is one thing to have all of the ideas, another to be experiencing the lessons real time. She was so brave. They both were. Even without yet knowing the rest of the story…. (See http://scs-matters.com/?s=Hawk&submit.x=0&submit.y=0)
Today, I witness other friends facing serious medical challenges that may result in early death. In my mind’s eye, I sit in a quiet room with each of them, holding that tender space of learning we are more than these physical bodies. Even now, my heart quivers again.
May we live each moment so fully we have no fear of the future nor regret of the past.
May we remember who we really are. May we each learn the art of a skillful goodbye.
By Debra Basham, on February 3, 2015
Recently, I have been blessed to share some of my writing in a variety of settings, including in my writers’ group, at an open mic event, and within an assisted living facility. I am amazed at what happens inside you as a writer through your writing (and sharing) process.
For one thing, sharing your writing feels like inviting someone into your home, and hearing someone share is being invited. Some writing feels like sitting in PJs, it can be so intimate. The emotions evoked span the emotional spectrum: happy, sad, glad, or mad.
This week, belly laughs galore from Debra Fewell sharing the revenge of the crawdads. Dan England’s words about a betrayed love still fill the air. Chris Michaels’ touched us all deeply by reading her memoir of her beloved husband’s death from pneumonia, following his decline from Alzheimer’s Disease.
It truly is an honor and a privilege to witness the insides of another human being.
Nostalgia by Debra Basham
My mother-in-law learned to drive a car later in life than anyone else I know, but following my father-in-law’s stroke, it was an absolute necessity; so learn to drive she did. It was either that or wait a couple of years for their youngest to turn sixteen.
Going from having someone take care of you to having to take care of someone is not all fun and games. It would be years later that we all went into family therapy to deal with the stress. No one expected things to go on as long as they did, and my husband and I certainly would not have predicted that in our early twenties we would have the opportunity to be raising a troubled teen. Agreeing to open our home to one child essentially closed off the door to another. Years went by, and by the time my brother-in-law moved out, we were not interested in starting over with the baby phase.
I tell our daughter she is an only because we could not improve on perfection. She knows the rest of the story, but it feels so good to have someone recognize you are perfect just the way you are.
My mom had the ability to do that for every one of her grandchildren. She would make each one’s favorite food: lasagna, fried chicken, barbeque—and all for the same meal. She would also make three pans of cinnamon rolls so everyone who preferred it could have the one from the center.
Mom worked hard. It was not until after my dad died and she moved into an apartment at the senior living complex that she had a proper bedroom closet. We sometimes forget how quickly things have changed so much. Growing up, we had a party line. Kids today would think that is something entirely different than what it was. We only answered the phone when it rang one long and one short, and if we picked up and the neighbor was still talking, we hung up just loudly enough she might get the hint, finish her call, and hang up, but not so loudly she could know we were trying to ask her to do so.
Privacy was just not the same. When I grew up, we shared bedrooms, and we shared beds. Sometimes our whole family was in one, lying in the dark listening to the radio…
It is true, we did not have much in the way of worldly wealth, but we certainly knew the importance of being generous with what we had. There was always enough to set an extra place at the table. My folks raised pigs once, but my two sisters and I named them after the people we bought the piglets from and after my dad had those pigs butchered, we refused to eat Tom and Fran!
We did not think of our lives as hard, life was just what it was. And I am not saying you know it for sure, but I have often though, looking back, I could just about understand what drove my dad to drink….
I’m so very thankful he had gone into sobriety about the time I got married at the tender young age of 16. We could probably say we had all been blessed because my dad’s grandchildren only knew him sober.
By Debra Basham, on January 26, 2015
On a walk through a nature preserve with a friend, we came upon a most unusual sighting. Not at all sure what we were seeing—one was on it back, covered by tiny ants—at first we thought perhaps both of these Giant Leopard Moths were dead. A small stick was lying nearby so I gently touched the one that was upright. It was not dead! What happened next was nothing we could have expected, and at the risk of anthropomorphism, I will simply report what we saw.
The upright moth moved nearer to the one that was on its back and covered by ants. Moving as close to the other as it could without getting on top of it, its front and hind legs on the adjacent side came up and over the upside down moth. It is difficult to tell you what we saw without calling this an embrace. My friend and I were both shocked to see the antennae of the upside down moth begin to move ever so slightly!
Before continuing on our walk, for some time, we watched in awe, quietly whispering our shared wonderings of what we were witnessing. For sure it looked (to two humans familiar with hospice care) like some sort of being present with; a giving of comfort; a vigil.
Eagles soared overhead, woodpecker drummed us a tune, tiny warblers sang sweetly, and as we came back over the wooden walkway where we had seen the moths earlier, we forgot to look for them. Going back, we were amazed to find only the small stick I had used to gently nudge the upright moth. No upright moth, no upside down moth, and no ants were visible on the walkway. Just the small stick that had been used to test the life of these creatures we had encountered.
A more thorough search led to the discovery of what we assume was the upright moth, now under the base of the handrail that ran along the walkway. The other moth and its coat-of-many-ants were nowhere to be seen….
We were both down on hands and knees watching the moth when some other nature walkers came along. Curious, they asked what we were looking at. Standing upright, drawing attention away from the moth, my friend mentioned that we had a picture, so I took out my phone and showed them this photo.
Interestingly, I read on the internet that seeing these moths is most rare because they are mostly nocturnal and have a very short lifespan. Walking away, mysteriously summoned, Brandon Bays, author of The Journey, began lecturing to us from deep within my pocket:
This is a book about freedom. Freedom to live your life as you’ve always dreamt it could be. All of us have issues feel trapped or limited by in some way—be it anger, depression, grief, anxiety, or fear. It may be as simple as thinking there must be more to life, or as overwhelming as feeling a complete failure. It may be as debilitating as addictions, or as life-threating as serious illnesses, and yet, no matter how deep the issue is, no matter how much you have struggled with it, the possibility exists for you to become absolutely free, whole, healed.
For sure, as human beings, we are capable of being absolutely free, whole, and healed. We are each capable of being real friends to ourselves and to one another. We can learn the lesson well from the Giant Leopard Moths….
By Debra Basham, on January 21, 2015
It is totally amazing what technology can do. Someone can snag bank account information when they walk beside you on the street. And as cloud computing gains popularity the risk to gigantic quantities of sensitive data is magnified. Information now travels across national borders in the blink of an eye.
At the same time, technology can mobilize, inform, support, and save precious moments and lives. That is exactly what happened when an adorable white Westie named Sophie got out of her house unnoticed early one Sunday morning.
By mid afternoon Sophie’s “mom” posted a sign at the end of their driveway.
By early evening that sign was photographed by a bicyclist with a cell phone and Sophie’s photo and her owners’ contact information was posted on a neighborhood Facebook page. Hundreds of individuals were alerted and about 48 hours later Sophie was back home safely!
Of course, not all missing pet stories have such a happy ending, but the important awareness for us all is to notice that the value of technology comes from its use, the tool itself is neutral.
Our mind, our body, our attitudes, our beliefs, even our very lives are given meaning by us, based on our actions. Celebrate Sophie’s safe return. Let’s all make the best of today!
By Debra Basham, on January 7, 2015
“Saul is quite the healer,” Sheilana quietly announced following the meditation. Sheilana Massey has been recognized as gifted since her early life within a Quaker farm family. For decades, Dr. Massey has hosted a weekly Meditation for Peace in her home on Pine Island in Southwest Florida. She had heard of Dr. Saul Shaye’s spiritual healing for years, but was herself meeting him for the first time that day.
He looked anything but extraordinary, although the Star of David amulet with a cross in the middle caught my eye right away. Nothing about his appearance hinted that he had been a contender for Mr. Louisiana, although he later shared a treasured (yellowed) version of this photo as proof of his life-long passion in body-building.
In 1973, while Dr. Shaye was working on his doctorate in chiropractic in Iowa, he attended a workshop on psychic diagnosis, intent on disproving the technique. After attending the workshop, Dr. Shaye found to his surprise that he too could read and diagnose by sensing energy fields.
When Dr. Shaye offered to provide a demonstration of his spiritual healing I quickly said I would love to be his demonstration subject. I later offered if anyone else in the group wanted to be the recipient, but none came forth so my exact words were, “I am always willing to receive healing and grace.”
While Saul went to the car to get his portable table, and bring in some copies of The Little Book of Miracles, Lois Mallinder told us she had put the booklet together over 20 years ago as a gift of gratitude after having benefited from Dr. Shaye’s spiritual healing. Since that time, she has printed and shared over 45,000 copies. You can get a free e-book from Smashwords or download the pdf version by putting Dr. Saul Shaye The Little Book of Miracles into a search engine.
You can listen to interviews online and I found this photo that substantiates his relationship with the Green Bay Packers. He told us Brett Favre has received his spiritual healings, too.
Dr. Shaye asked me if I was comfortable saying in front of the others what I would receive healing for. I assured him I was, and, when instructed to limit my list to three (even though he assure me that every healing need would be addressed), I first mentioned abdominal bloating that had been a very uncomfortable side effect of the surgery I had in 2012 to remove a 21 centimeter mass from my abdomen. Second on my list was spinal and muscular challenges since having been diagnosed and treated for polio when I was five years old. “My left knee,” was my last comment.
“Put your shoes on and lie face down, please.” Before he even touched me my left knee started twitching with energy. I am not a newbie to energy work, and I am very sensitive. I could feel energy running throughout my body as I listened to him explaining to the others what he was doing. I was aware he addressed a leg-length discrepancy related to my left knee being out of balance. Sensations of energy have continued, and there is a very welcome relief from the abdominal discomfort.
I want to shout to the mountain tops. Knowing I cannot decide what is best for another, I have shared information about Saul with several.
What makes some people open to spiritual healing while others hold bias or even fear? This especially baffles me about Christians, given that Jesus was a healer and told his followers you are healers, too. John 14:12, “Truly, truly, I say to you, he who believes in Me, the works that I do, he will do also; and greater works than these he will do; because I go to the Father.”
Was it chance that placed me at that gathering, or destiny? Say only, I am grateful….
By Debra Basham, on December 31, 2014
Days have flown by, filled with family fun and shared experiences. For Christmas, hand-made gifts were shared, bringing delight beyond belief. The gifts, included an aromatic rice bag for the microwave (the scent was created using herbal teas); a sugar scrub to make hands and feet soft as a baby’s butt, and a fantastic board game which included elements of some of our old favorites and created a level playing field for all participants!
Additionally, as part of our family time, we went to see Unbroken, a powerful film based on Laura Hillenbrand’s biography of an Olympic runner, turned war hero. A true story, the violence in this film activates a sense of shared humanity rather than separation. I was willing to go see it a second time….
The real-life hero, Louis Zamperini, died this past July, but after seeing this film, I can expect that his spirit will continue to bless our planet for all eternity. He ended up going to Tokyo as a POW, rather than to compete there in the Olympics as he had hoped. After their plane crashed several hundred miles from Oahu, Hawaii, surrounded by sharks, shot at by Japanese runners from above, and without food or water, it is nothing short of miraculous that they survived.
The details of his story I find most touching take place where the film leaves off—after this amazing man returned home from the war.
As some still argue the question of nature or nurture, none will argue the absolute inspiration that comes from this incredible human life. Plagued by night terrors of his ordeal, his wife insisted he go hear Evangelist Billy Graham speak. He never had the nightmares again.
Louie Zamperini made good on the promise he made to God during those 47 days he spent drifting in the ocean before being captured by the Japanese: “If you get me out of this alive, I will serve you for the rest of my life.”
Fortunately, most of us will never have such dire conditions in which to make such significant a choice….
By Debra Basham, on December 20, 2014
It is said that a picture is worth a thousand words: certainly true about this revised holiday to-do list. Your priorities are set straight with such simple shifts of awareness. The first one (Be Present) reminds me of our relationship with our grandchildren. They do not expect presents from us. EVER. They see us as grandparents for whom presence is the priority.
Sending peace certainly is appropriate right now. The news is filled with opportunities.
This year, putting people first seems especially significant as so many are in so much pain. Some are experiencing serious illness, others have lost loved ones. One of my nephews is in prison; another is gradually putting his life back together by getting sober.
Most days my heart feels like it is breaking open. Everywhere I look I see treasures. Some of those treasures are material: a safe home, a beautiful new office space that I share with my sister, and a new bed! More meaningful than words are the relationships with family, friends, my spiritual community, and co-workers.
A special friend said she realized if her life were to end right now, she would know she had experienced a wonderful life. I think you understand that feeling. She went on to tearfully say she is not ready to die, and as a cancer survivor, she is now living her life more fully.
Each day, it is good to remember, thing nothing lasts forever. Not buildings nor bodies. Perhaps the precious, sacred, temporary nature of everything is what allows you to value it all as gift. Makes me want to wrap my beloved in a hug.
May all beings find peace. Especially now….
Today
Today I am aware I am here
May I be here
May I be aware
May I make today worth living
Tomorrow may bring unwanted changes
Or dreams come true
One thing is certain, though,
Our world is blessed by YOU
Today
By Debra Basham, on December 9, 2014
You can close your eyes to reality, but not to memories.
~ Stanislaw Jerzy Lec
Cleaning out my cupboard where I keep scarves and jewelry was the way I spent a few hours this afternoon. I slowly turned a pair of clip-on earrings and a broach that belonged to my mom over and over in my hand before getting a thin piece of sticky paper and writing her name on them. At some point, I will not be here and I wanted to be sure someone would know these items had been hers, and thus meant a lot to me.
A classic mood ringfrom the 80’s was ceremoniously slipped onto my little finger as I continued sorting and organizing. I let my mind drift back through my yesteryears. Yes, memories are connected to our things, but it is not the things that really matter. That lesson came vividly to my mind a few days ago when I received a call from a woman who had lost her wedding rings and wondered if hypnosis might help her find them. As we talked about possible outcomes, she agreed that the rings are symbolic of what she values: the love and connection with her husband.
Matthew 6:19 (Christian New Testament) addresses the difference between the things and what has real value: “Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moths and vermin destroy, and where thieves break in and steal.” The love and connection cannot be stolen or lost. Those are still there, wherever her rings are!
The rune symbols on this special pair of earrings gifted to me by my business partner, Joel, spoke clearly to my heart. I remembered how runic alphabets were commonly used in Germanic languages before the Latin alphabet was adopted. Today, rune stones are used as a form of divination. Asking a question and letting the symbolism answer can allow you to gain significant insight. Many of my journal entries over the past years as Joel and I wrote and taught and worked diligently to serve humanity together have included a rune drawing.
This friendship bracelet was a gift to me from my childhood friend (Connie Churchill) for my twelfth birthday. Even though 1962 was a very long time ago, and I do not wear them now, the bracelet, mood ring, and rune earrings are all nestled carefully back into the old wooden jewelry box my dad gave me for Christmas when I was a child.
Each of these items is highly symbolic of valuable love and connections.
For that love and those connections, I remain deeply grateful….
You can tell by the bright blue of my mood ring!
By Debra Basham, on December 3, 2014
“It is not joy that makes us grateful; it is gratitude that makes us joyful.”
I heard this pithy quotation attributed to Brené Brown, but it actually came from Gratefulfness, The Heart of Prayer by Brother David Steindl-Rast, and it is part of a larger commentary:
Ordinary happiness depends on happenstance.
Joy is that extraordinary happiness that is independent of what happens to us.
Good luck can make us happy, but it cannot give us lasting joy.The root of joy is gratefulness. We tend to misunderstand the link between joy and gratefulness. We notice that joyful people are grateful and suppose that they are grateful for their joy.
But the reverse is true: their joy springs from gratefulness. If one has all the good luck in the world, but takes it for granted, it will not give one joy. Yet even bad luck will give joy to those who manage to be grateful for it.
We hold the key to lasting happiness in our own hands. For it is not joy that makes us grateful; it is gratitude that makes us joyful.
My mind goes immediately to a remarkable woman I know who has been on a marathon journey through cancer for close to a year now. Following an almost unbelievable surgical procedure in August, she has met one complication after another.
Sometimes it feels as though I am holding my breath waiting to hear an update from her.
When her updates come—along with the candid reports of the hurdles—I can hear her fears and frustrations and her hopes and dreams, but I also hear gratitude. Her heart has been broken open widely enough that her heart holds everything.
Her heart holds her desire to be there to see her daughter grow up.
Her open heart is the container for the things that used to seem so significant.
And joy is there in her heart, too; a product of her gratefulness.
From her most recent post: “On the positive side, I saw a cardiologist today. I had an echo-cardiogram done last week and it seems as though the pericardial effusion has now gone away. (That was the water around my heart). So that is good news. The cardiologist said if cancer was causing the effusions it would still be there. He believes it was the emboli in my lungs and now that they are under control, the effusion disappeared. I’ll take any win I can get!”
Woven within the pain and uncertainty of her human frailty is genuine gratitude for the love that is extended to her. Love comes from friends, family, co-workers. Most wondrously, love also flows freely from unnumbered strangers on prayer lists who do not even know her name or what city or state she lives in.
As I join that unending circle of love encircling her and all others who are navigating the turbulent waters of the human experience, I am reminded again to never underestimate the benefits of gratitude….
By Debra Basham, on November 23, 2014
Life literally hangs by a breath.
Breathe in.
After exhaling, consider the possibility that you might not be able to inhale again.
When breath no longer enters your body,
then your life span has ended, and you will die.
Say to yourself, “This life is fragile and completely dependent on my breath.”
From Being with Dying:
Cultivating Compassion and Fearlessness in the Presence of Death
by Joan Halifax
Well, she has worked very hard this past week, and we now have her Celebration of Life ceremony written. (See my previous post: Enjoy Your Journey.) She considers this her opportunity to get in the last word. I love her sense of humor, and I am deeply honored to have been invited into the intimate spaces of her heart and mind. I, too, feel a sense of satisfaction with our co-creation. Now we wait, knowing that for each of us life literally hangs by a breath.
Since I have been visiting in her home with her, I now ask for dog biscuits at the drive-in window at the credit union. These treats are for her loyal four-legged friend. I am welcomed with a bark and an immediate expectancy of a treat. I think she welcomes me that way, too….
Baby boomers are now approaching end-of-life, and, as this bulge in human history we have the opportunity to shape the culture we were born into. Is it possible we can cultivate compassion and fearlessness in the presence of death? Perhaps it is not only possible, but also our destiny and our most sacred opportunity.
Conscious dying is the phrase most commonly used today. An essential element in conscious dying is learning to consciously live, and the earlier the better, but it is never too late to learn the truth that it’s OK.
The hospice doctors, nurses, and social workers asked him if he was afraid of death. He always said no; he was not afraid of death. It occurred to me that was not the right question.
I asked him, “Are you afraid of death?”
“No,” he responded.
“Are you afraid of dying?” I asked.
“Yes,” he whispered.
“What are you afraid of?” I continued.
“The unknown… the pain,” he stammered.
Steven Spiro, Buddhist chaplain and advocate of conscious dying, shares information on conscious dying and encourages us to imagine our own death in detail: where would you like to die; who would you want with you; who don’t you want to be there. I would add the phrase from Imagine Healing: Although it won’t happen exactly as you imagine it….
Spiro suggests we can make peace and practice conscious dying with the help of the phrases from Four Things That Matter Most: A Book About Living, by Ira Byrock, M.D.
“Please forgive me.”
“I forgive you.”
“Thank you.”
“I love you.”
Spiro wisely adds a fifth: “It’s OK.”
I breathe in and I think of the unknown facing me and all those I love. I breathe out and I think of the unknown facing her and all those she loves.
It’s OK. I have another serving of dog biscuits ready….
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