As An Advisor

As an advisor: 

it was my first reading of Carlos Castaneda that I encountered the advice of keeping death as an advisor, a shocking consideration to my early teen mind, especially as it seemed to be a subject to be avoided or discussed in hushed tones if needed to be talked of at all. Of course I was familiar with death beyond a concept at this point, having lost a string of family members through the years, grandparents, aunts and uncles, and most sadly of all was my nephew of just a few months dying suddenly in his crib. This last death had a profound affect on me as it was my first experience truly mourning the loss of an another, that such a young life was no more, forever gone from this world. 

so to read of death as an advisor came as an actual confrontation to my young mind, completely turning my thoughts on how to consider my own mortality, a subject I had never wanted to even consider before. But I was fascinated by the world of Castaneda, a desert landscape filled with spirits, mystery, and magic a completely different way of viewing life, so radically opposite from my suburban teenage years. What this was, so early on, was a seed planted, my conscious expanding from this point on to other readings of death and dying, experiences with altered states, soon beginning a life long meditation practice, and further loss of loved ones and friends - now growing ever nearer in intimacy and connection. 

not yet as an advisor, 

yet death had made its presence known.

it's no easy task to keep death in mind, especially at a younger age when even loss seems to touch us only briefly before moving on, being so engrossed in the actuality of living that there seems little need to give the subject much consideration. It's different now, I'm older, death ever nearer with each day that's gone, and I've lived with an intimacy of it's presence, deeply so, being right there as it reached to touch my father, granting me a final moment of goodbye. 

death had been close by for quite some time, we felt its presence as my father grew weaker, talked of it, yet still in hushed tones as if not wishing to draw it any nearer. I still hadn't taken death as an advisor, too occupied with my own grief and fear of loss, but it's voice was more familiar now, whispering, and I was slowly allowing myself to listen to what it wished for me to learn. It was my father's last few moments that death finally became my advisor, an actuality that's not to be avoided. Castaneda says that death is always present, just behind our let shoulder, stalking us through life. I've been present as it reached the end of its stalk and tapped my father's shoulder for his life to end, there was fear, ours, his in dying and mine for the loss I knew was here...

and then, 

there was just a letting go. 

everything surrendered.

in that very final moment...only peace, my father in his last breath and my own acceptance that her was gone. That moment, death became my true advisor. It's a simple message, not at all cloaked in esoteric knowledge, beyond even the need to try and understand, it's inherent in our very nature - we know this, death, always present in the intimacy of life, a reweaving of the fabric of our existence. Nothing is truly lost, although we certainly mourn the absence of familiar form. 

life continues. 

here's what death tells me, that my own self-importance will eventually be surrendered, and that's it's easier to do so now, letting go of any sense of personal ownership, that I'm entitled to anything other than what I can hold within my final moment. Death urges me to be at peace, to not cling to my beliefs, or make demands on how my life should be right now, to hold my desires and efforts lightly, easily letting go, detached from any final outcome. Most importantly death tells me that my father continues on through atoms and particles, existing as the fabric of the world's design, and even at this moment is in the midst of becoming something other, a new appearance, life. 

Death advisers me to see life in all of its continuation. 

letting go of any sense of permanence.

finally, 

with death as an advisor...

I'm listening. 

~

Peace, Eric