Yesterday I met a new death and dying client. I call these precious people "clients" though I don't charge them for meeting. Mostly I just listen. They need to talk.
Talking about death, or
even listening to others talk about death alters my consciousness. I feel my
head swim, just a little. It’s not exactly a “high” more of a buzz. Still it’s
an interesting phenomenon that I wanted to document.
Some years ago I spent a couple of hours talking to a
gentleman who had written a book on the certainty that, either consciously or
unconsciously, we can choose when we want to die. The conversation was lively.
When I left his home I found that I almost couldn’t remember how to drive. I
was buzzed, strictly by the discussion. My mind was loopy, euphoric.
It’s more evidence to me that death, at least in my
experience, is not necessarily a bad thing. I don’t get this way when I discuss
my pets, my work, books, movies or any other topic; nothing else does this to
my feelings of inner wellbeing. Discussing death releases my oxytocin almost as
certainly as falling in love does!
On another occasion I talked to a new friend about death in
general. She was tense, not certain to whom she was telling her secrets. So I
said that there are many of us, myself included, who look at death as nothing
more than going home. Her shoulders dropped and her face relaxed and she said,
“Yes, that’s it exactly.” Again, my consciousness – and hers – was changed.
Now you may say that I’m just close to the edge (and some,
with various levels of affection, might say “over” it) and able to change
consciousness on a whim. That’s probably true, too. But sharing thoughts of a
deceased loved one with a friend in her grief must in and of itself change us
on some level. In my case it changes me for the good. I don’t feel bad. I feel
better.
Feeling better is something we all seek. The psychological
term (and one of my favorite words) is homeostasis: seeking balance, a return
to the place in which we’re most comfortable. My Psych 101 instructor used the
example of a toilet: during the flush there is dramatic movement, noise,
gurgling and then, when it reaches the place in which it is “comfortable” all
sound stops. There is silence and the water calms. The illustration has always
worked for me.
Ergo, if discussing death makes me feel better, calmer, it
follows that I have found my true Life’s Work.
So I will continue to do whatever work
I can as a volunteer. I will step up where I can and I will step away when I
need to.
I’ll just keep up the good work, talking freely about a
subject many fear. I’ll be a happy emissary of the grim reaper, enjoying a
topic that makes me feel better than any other and may possibly be of value to
others.
