I Woke Up Thinking About Fall

This morning just before my head lifted from the pillow and my feet hit the hardwood floor I lay in bed thinking about Halloween and the Day of the Dead. I think more about death than I used to as many of my friends and cultural icons are putting down their physical form for their next adventure. Fall reminds me that it is time to go inward, hide my skin under layers of clothes, and prepare for the latent and deeply rich period of Winter.

I experienced death for the first time when I was in middle school, the age of my oldest grandchild. There was a teacher, or was it a coach, that was on dialysis. He was most likely in his forties, he was vital, and he saw me. My Soul actively responded to his kindness. And he died. I became curious about death as I knew someone so alive must have more living to do. Then in high school a school mate who was popular and lived one neighborhood over died in a car accident. It seemed impossible that I saw him walking down the halls of our school during the day, get into a car to go home to not be seen again. His was the first memorial service I attended. I went with my dad who was his baseball and football coach and I watched my father shake the parents’ hands saying something to the effect of “what a great son you had. I am here for you if you need anything.” I wondered if I could show up the way my dad did someday; I couldn’t say a word in that moment. I started seeing my classmates different. I now knew the fragility of the human form. I was fascinated, curious, and a bit on edge.

I studied World Religions in college. My most memorable class was called Death and Dying. I would meet the Frugal Gourmet, Jeff Smith, who came to our class talking about cultural traditions around death. I would later learn that he molested teenage boys, making it difficult to reconcile my experience of him with these revelations. He would settle a suit in 1998 for $5 million dollars. I believe his wife stayed with him. I would come to realize there is a lot about human beings and human behavior that is harmful and I may never understand.

We were given one exercise in the Death and Dying class that I was unable to do. We were to take the names of the three people we were closest to, write them down, then turn them into the teacher. He would pronounce them dead. My parents had just divorced, and like all major emotional tsunamis I was left to figure it out and process myself. Adding death, even imagined, to the puzzle was too much for me and yet Life’s timing isn’t mine to control. Studying death head-on opened my curiosity aperture wider.

I look back at my youth with such compassion for myself. My beautiful father died fifteen years ago. Friends of mine are leaving the planet. The relationship I have with the Invisible Divine Realm to me is so Real that I am able to Trust It. As I look forward to the Day of the Death I embrace the practice of living with death in my midst. I like honoring those who have gone before me alongside others who are doing the same. It reminds me that since the beginning of time, we have been taking and leaving form — there is a Sacred predictability to this unpredictable experience.

As we watch the leaves fall from the trees essentially leaving their life force to become fertilizer for next years growth, may we allow those aspects of our being we are outgrowing be released and recycled into more life.

Love and Blessings,

Reverend Bonnie