183/365 - Becoming disorderly

Several people I know have lost loved ones recently.  Just this morning, I received the sad news that the woman who ran the mom's group I was in when my kids were babies, passed away suddenly yesterday.  She was only in her fifties.

As I pause and remember Nancy, feeling what is certainly only a tiny sliver of the loss that her family and closest friends must be enduring, I reflect on the fragility of life and the mystery that lies beyond.  I imagine that many who knew her will take comfort in the belief that she is in heaven, that she "is in a better place," although it must be bittersweet comfort for those who lost their mother, coach, grandmother, wife, friend.

I understand why so many of us hold the belief that another form of life follows death. because the notion of ceasing to exist altogether is far too unsettling a concept to consider.  The hard truth is that none of us really knows, even the staunchest believers among us, until it's our turn.

Not long ago, I came across this image, which offers a unique perspective about death:

I realize these sentiments fly in the face of traditional theology, making them difficult for some people to entertain.  I, for one, love the concept of my essence being transferred into the energy that continues to exist in the universe - especially the notion of becoming less orderly when I die, since so much about life seems to be an attempt to keep it all together.  Our vitality and the connections we have to others are so much more meaningful than the little everyday details that we work so hard to keep alive.

Nancy, as many people will attest, lived her life with extravagant vitality, and her compassion for others was expressed in her efforts to serve the outcast and needy in her community.  Her presence, in its orderly form, will no doubt be missed and long remembered by those who knew and loved her.

"One can create mildly. One can live at a low flame. We're afraid to look foolish, to feel extravagantly, or make a mistake or risk unneccessary pain-but given something like death, what does it matter if one looks foolish now and then or tries too hard or cares too deeply." ~Diane Ackerman