Let’s Live Like We’re Dying
Halloween Greetings!
Have any plans for celebrating this Mid-point-of-Autumn, End-of-Harvest, Doorway-Between-This-World-and-the-Next time of year?
Around here, we dont' settle for a few fake spiders and jack-o'lanterns and call the decorating done! No ma'am, we prefer to ride the edge of macabre by annually constructing a skeletal family graveyard with--wait for it!--each skeleton and tombstone personalized for an actual, living, immediate family member.
Yes, indeedy. This is us.
That photo above? Oh, that's a close-up of yours truly, just in case you didn't immediately recognize me.
Honestly, I thought my hubby was more than a little twisted--or at least embodying bad taste when he first started his Trick or Treat graveyard as a shared fun initiative with our three, then-teenage daughters.
But strangely, as I've spent time discovering and syncing with seasonal rhythms, I now welcome our annual vignette as a time to get real about Death. And me. Together.
Turns out there's a whole lotta YES in affirming this future reality. Tim McGraw sings that learning to “Live Like You Were Dying” is the recipe for saying YES to life and relationships.
For centuries now, this time of the year's final harvest, has been recognized as a time when the “veil is thin"-- when the door between Death and Life is propped open, at least a little.
It's this recognition that has produced feasts and festivals such as the Day of the Dead, Halloween, Samhain, All Saints Day, etc.
During this year's thinning veil, why not take the time to (re)connect with your own ancestors? Think about displaying some pictures of your own dearly departed, and invite family/friends over to share stories of those who've stepped across the Doorway already.
This doesn't have to be “grave," serious work, good heavens, no! You can make it a fun, all-share, kind of event.
At the very least, it's a time for each of us to begin sharing OUR stories with our loved ones, so that they actually have some stories to connect with us, when we ourselves step across that Veil in the (distant) future.
If you don't know where to start, think of having your people share one (or more) of their responses to prompts like these, featured on the Ancestory website:
What is your earliest memory?
What has changed the most since you were a child?
What is the bravest thing you've ever done?
What did your parents do for a living?
Why did your parents give you your name?
What was your childhood home like?
This is worth our annual effort. It forges connections across time and space and season.
It helps us take stock of our own life-changes, from year to year. For example, in the 2020 picture (above left), I had two grandchildren and two dogs--you can see Ziggy in the background, right? This year, my blessings have grown to five grandkids (above right), yet I feel the loss of both of our dogs keenly still.
Richard Rohr writes that one of our biggest spiritual life lessons is learning to die before we die. Learning to let go, to enjoy the passing of time, and to surrender to the divine is BIG, sacred work.
It's the trick and the treat of Life. It's the goodness of the HERE and THERE. On both sides of that propped-open Door between Life and Death.
We're gonna die. But, we're not dead yet. So, let's get to celebrating our people, our blessings, our connections.
Until next time,
xo
