When I was little I prayed that I would die before anyone I knew or loved because I was so sure I couldn’t bear the loss. I was sure that the enormity of the grief would swallow me whole or spit me out all chewed up, ugly and unlovable. I did not want to know that kind of pain.
Then, someone I loved died.
And I survived the pain, but grew just a tiny bit less naive. Still, I went on to think, “Okay, so I was lucky on that one. I still don’t want anyone else I know to die.”
But they did.
And I survived. And it has gone on like that since, for 68 years. I want to believe, my time here on earth will make a difference. If it can be through helping someone else feel less fearful talking about death or less alone, that’s good enough for me.
So I write, to move beyond the fear that what I have to say will be of little significance to anyone. The proverbial “first step” of the thousand-mile journey. The fear comes and goes; weaving itself into my life, making itself ridiculously obvious during times of doubt. But making friends with the fear has helped tremendously in allowing me to welcome it when it comes.
I am reminded often of the teachings of Frank Ostaseki to “Welcome everything; push nothing away.” When I feel myself pushing something away, I take a closer look. I am usually pleased to find that there in the midst of what I thought I wanted to avoid, a rainbow is blending so beautifully it might otherwise have been missed.
In my work I am continuously delighted by the opportunities that arise in simply being alongside someone who’s story has yet to fully unfold. Just as my own has yet to do.
It seems that as a culture we don’t talk much about dying, at least not before we have to. However, in our house, we talk about it a lot. We’ve had to. Parents, sisters, children, friends and beloved pets have died. Each loss creating the need to re-calibrate the course of our lives because each death brings us closer to understanding what matter in life.
As I began writing these stories, I was a hospice chaplain.
Dying was part of my life on a daily basis.
It’s part of your life too,
I assure you.
Join me now, as we move closer to the veil…
Thank you for listening to Where the Veil Grows Thin. Please look for future episodes every Sunday at seanjeung.com.