Death Comes and Rests So Heavy

There is one way that I've always felt connected to nature - and that is through the cycle of life and death. Having worked for hospice for over a year, I came to believe that death is a meaningful part of our journey and I still believe that. As a Christian I also see that the cycle of life, death, and rebirth happens for us daily as we celebrate Easter throughout the year. I believe that no matter what one has done or who one has been, each new morning, each spring, provides possibility for new life and transformation.

All of that is fine but yesterday a good friend of mine died after a long struggle with cancer. My beliefs are hitting me smack dab in the face today. I didn't want him to die. It breaks my heart that he is gone. If I really believe in new life, what do I believe the next part of his journey to be? Unfortunately, this is not the post of answers. This is the post of mourning and sadness.

I'm writing this in this blog because I am feeling that getting outside may be a step in my process of grief. I'm feeling drawn to the sun and hoping that the scent and color of the lilacs out back might provide me some comfort. I have twice visited the Botanical Gardens in Des Moines with my friend Johnny and so I understand the beauty of nature to be an important part of our relationship. Perhaps the flowers that we saw together are in some way connected - as we are all connected - to the flowers I find in my yard.

I'm writing this before I go outside today because I so badly don't want to be wrong. I'm going out with a sense of hope that there is comfort in the color purple, that there is peace in the flowering tree. I'm going outside to say a little prayer for Johnny and his boys and his family. That wherever they are there will be comfort for them, too. That peace will be a part of their experience.

For now, death rests heavy on my heart. Goodbye my friend. May the earth welcome you home.

Let the Sun Shine

Adopt the pace of nature: her secret is patience. ~Ralph Waldo Emerson



I've picked a perfect first week for this project - the sun has been shining and the temps have been in the 70s. I've been outside every day - eating lunch and then taking a walk with a dear friend, paying bills, having a snack, flinging a frisbee with Andrew - all sorts of different activities. It only took a couple of days for me to realize that for this to be meaningful. I was going to have to encounter nature in some way when I was outside. Just sitting on the porch and paying bills feels similar to sitting on the sofa paying bills. Sitting on the porch and watching the lilacs bloom is something altogether different and infinitely more wonderful.

I'm also realizing that this experience is going to require patience which, as Emerson says, I can learn from nature herself. Things are not going to change dramatically for me. I'm not going to wake up tomorrow and run outside, singing "Let the Sun Shine" while I spin in the grass in celebratory circles with arms out-flung and head thrown back. What I want from this is to find ways to integrate nature into my daily life in small but meaningful ways. And I want to get to know my surroundings a bit more.

I have been exploring my backyard and I'm finding out how beautiful and full of life it is. The lilacs, as I said, are blooming; the aspen are showing their leaves, the grass is lush. I have a bunny and some raccoons and a couple of squirrels. I have giant evergreen trees and lovely flowering bushes. Really, I'm blessed to live in such an amazing place and I've been taking it for granted. Even the flower bed that mom and I painstakingly worked to prepare for last summer I let get overgrown and is now full of weeds. There's a great place to spend some time outdoors if I would just give myself time to do it.

So, close to the end of the first week I am reporting some success. I've been patiently going outside and looking for the beauty around me. I've been appreciating new experiences and even my 10 year old son is into it. Now, when he wants to play outside with me and I say no he reminds me, lovingly, "you're supposed to be outside mom - remember?" Ah yes, a change is coming. Singing and dancing are sure to follow. Let the sun shine.