Wake up call

About a week ago I heard that a treasured friend from work had been found collapsed in his apartment and had been rushed to the hospital. The next day we heard he was in the ICU and the following day that he had been taken of the respirator and had died. This friend was 60 years old and one of the most alive people I've ever known. Talk about a wake up call! But I only feel sad for what we here in our community have lost not having him physically around anymore. I believe our friend is off dancing somewhere in another realm and getting started on his next big adventure. Here's the poem I wrote in his honor a little while after hearing about his passing:

You lived so exuberantly, so fully, so deeply.
You brightened my world every time we would meet.

You stimulated my mind and made me reconsider everything.
You were optimism embodied.

I suppose the way you left this world suits you…
Unexpected and dramatic.

But you were at the beginning of so many new things just now
and had so much yet to live and give…

How could it be that you changed directions
so suddenly and have taken off for
uncharted territory?

Despite this ache in my heart,
I smile at the thought of you
dancing into the dawn at an altitude only accessible to angels like you.

A few days after this friend's death I met for the first time with my study/support group working together through Stephen Levine's book A Year to Live. We began by each telling what attracted us to this study and what we hope to get out of it. And then we discussed how we'd like to proceed. We talked about doing some of the suggested exercises in the book like life review. Having been a facilitator trained in the Sage-ing(c) curriculum inspired by the book From Age-ing to Sage-ing by Rabbi Zalman Schachter-Shalomi, I have done extensive work around life review and explored how it can be helpful to people. I was surprised that one of the people in this study group felt that life review was just about re-hashing the "same old stories" of a lifetime. I explained that the goal of life review isn't just to re-hash, but at its most productive, life review is done at "a certain age" at which we can stand back with the perspective of time and look for the big-picture patterns of our lives and learn something important about ourselves.

She asked me for some examples. I told her that if this were my last year to live, it would be good for me to really look at some of my behavior patterns that it would be best for me to finally let go of. For example I have a bit of a control issue. In many cases dying people don't have a lot of control, and I know that if I can let go of my need to control the circumstances of my death and focus on making it as meaningful a passage as possible, that would be a worthwhile thing (in my opinion).

I also mentioned an idea that over a lifetime we've had peak experiences and achievements which are like pearls that we've been stringing onto a necklace. As we do life review and identify these pearls, we can see if there are one or two more pearls that we'd like to add to the necklace to complete it before we finish this lifetime.

It was an interesting first session together. We sang and guided each other through the "soft belly" meditation in the book, and it became clear that each of us has our own motivations for participation and things to offer the group.

In continuing to considering the idea of life review over the past several days, got thinking this morning on my way to work about whether I had any regrets. Since my daughter is beginning to look at colleges, I wondered whether, if I had it to do over again, I would have made the same college choices as I did (small, local, liberal arts college for two years, then transfering to mega-state university here in my city for my junior and senior years).

As I started thinking about it, I realized that if I had attended a clubby East coast "seven sisters" type school, or joined a sorority, or other possibilities, I might have had a totally different college experience. I would probably have been socialized into the culture of the place and become a very loyal, active student, then alumna. But the route I went offered me the opportunity to build community within the giant institution, and in my counter-culture off-campus living arrangement, as well. The community-building activities are the things I remember with the most fondness when I think back on my college years. Sure, I got an education, too. But I would have gotten one anywhere. What I realize now is that the choices of colleges I made fit with the person I was and who I was becoming, and the person I still am. No regrets here! (Plus think of all the dough I saved! I graduated debt-free!)

An experiment in intentional living

By way of introduction, for many years I've been a closet essayist. While I have published my writing in the past, it hasn't been a high priority for me to have others read my writing. To paraphrase Richard Bach in his book Illusions, the world doesn't really need me to tell it how the world works. Everyone has their own perspective on life--who am I to feel that my perspective is so terribly valuable. Nevertheless, I do feel that other people's writings have touched me deeply and so perhaps what I have to say will be of use to others.

This is my first foray into blogging. It feels like an appropriate time because a friend recently invited me to join her in an experiment. To engage with her in the "study" the book "A Year to Live: How to live this year as if it were your last" by Stephen Levine. Coincidentally I had heard about this book only about a week before my friend's emailed invitation. I told her that it sounded like fun. I was expecting it to be a sort of ad hoc book club. Once I got the book out of the library and read the introduction and first chapter, though, I realized that what I was agreeing to was significantly more of a commitment.

Levine's premise is that many people never really live consciously and fully until they're given notice that their life will definitely be coming to an end within a year. Having worked with many dying people, he says that many of these folks report that once the horrible first reaction to the "death sentence" passes, they say that they feel that they've actually been given permission to finally live! ...to live the life they should have been living all along.

He decided to do an experiment. He'd live a calendar year as if it were his last. He'd try to live consciously and gratefully and to tie up the loose ends that we all procrastinate. Then he wrote a book about it and essentially he is inviting others to follow his example and do their own "year to live" experiment.

As my 45th birthday will, God willing, occur in April, I've been putting a lot of thought lately into whether or not I'm living as if life were actually finite. These days everyone seems to expect to live to be 100. I am well aware, however, that there's a good chance that I won't. Unfortunately one really wonderful friend died last year at age 60 and another acquaintance in her early 60s is likely going to die in the coming year. My own mother had cancer from her late 40s to her late 50s and died just shy of her 60th birthday.

So lately I have been thinking--what if were to die around age 60? Am I really living the way I would if I only had about 15 years left?

But even 15 years is long enough to procrastinate and put off items on life's to-do list. We tell ourselves that we'll get to that dream trip or start pursuing a passion or deepening our spiritual practices when present responsibilities and resource restrictions have passed. But knowing an end point is really in sight might make the difference. What if I were down to the last five years? The very last year? Am I really living intentionally and consciously? What do I need to do NOW?

So Levine's suggestion and my friend's invitation come at a perfect time to really make some changes. My plan is to create a plan and carry out an experiment in intentional living for this year and meet periodically with a couple of friends who have also expressed interest in this project for mutual support and encouragement. I'd like to share this year's experience with you out there in blog-land and invite any of you to share your own thoughts and results of similar experiments with me in this on-line forum.

with blessings for a meaningful 2008,
Debra