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Death Stuff

12/11/2014

3 Comments

 
Good morning, Readers!

So.  Life.  It's a thing.  And it is always fatal.  Life is the leading cause of death.  In fact, if you have life, you will die.  It is 100% guaranteed.

Growing up, I thought a great deal about death and dying.  Perhaps that is not normal, and I was an overly morbid child (no, I did not dress entirely in black and wear copious amounts of eye-liner), but all that mulling over the other side of life has left me with something that a surprisingly few people have: comfort with the impermanence of existence.

I know that one day, I will lose people I love.  I know I it will hurt and I will grieve.  I know I will have to be strong for others who are also grieving.  And I know that one day, I too will one day cease to exist.  Not for a while yet, I hope.  There's a lot I want to get done between then and now.

All the time I have spent thinking about death and dying (gods, that really does sound morbid), I have come to the conclusion that death is by far harder for those left behind than it is for the dead.  Because of this, I do not fear death the way some people seem to.  I'm alright with my dying.  In fact, the only thing that upsets me about it is the thought that people I love will be hurting because of it.

I assume.  I mean, for all I know, they'll be throwing one hell of a 'finally!' party.

I also fear that I might die slowly and in agony.  That's no way to live, and that's no way do die.

It should surprise no one that I whole-heartedly support dignified death.

In fact, I don't really understand the fear of death.  It is life that breaks the spirit and shatters the heart.  It is life that delivers the hardest blows.

Yet it is death that is always depicted as a frightening monster.  I don't buy it.  I just don't.
Picture
It took a full half hour of browsing to find an image of Death that didn't portray something frightening and horrific. Why is that, do you think? Image courtesy of the Order of the Good Death. Click for link.
Even if we found a way to escape death, would I?

I don't think so.  Life has been pretty rough on me so far - though it is leaps and bounds better now than it was and I would be sad to leave it at this juncture.

This comfort with death and dying is something that infuses my writing.  It's inescapable.  And I have this crazy idea that death, like life, is not permanent.  Its permanence can be circumvented, if the living are diligent.  A person may die, but they continue to live as long as those left behind remember them; as long as they continue to tell stories about them.  That is an idea that also permeates my writing.  Nowhere is it more obvious in my short story The Dying God, but it exists in all my stories, now that I think back on this.

This idea is probably also what lies behind my love for Samhain (Hallowe'en, for the non-pagan folk), and for the deep peace I feel every Remembrance and ANZAC Day.  Those days are special to me.  They are reserved for remembering and honouring the dead, and for offering them thanks and, in the case of Samhain, a feast and an evening with their living kin.  Those days are wonderfully honorific, a testament to the impermanence of death.  And for some reason, probably because I'm so comfortable with the topic, these days fill me with the kind of peace you would think would only be possible after meditating in a forest for a week.

If hunger didn't distract you.

'Cause it would totally distract me.  A lot.  I'm hungry.  Is it morning tea time?

The point is, I'm really weird, I guess.  Death is not frightening to me, and this bizarre outlook on life and death permeates everything in my writing.  I don't know that I'd be able to write a story without this outlook being infused in the tale.  What about you?  Is there something that you believe that infuses your work.  What is it and how?  Enquiring minds want to know.

Right, I'm off to start my next Welsh lesson now that I've brought everyone down.  Here's a classic song which fits today's post rather snugly:
Ciao!
3 Comments
Eric Desmarais link
12/11/2014 03:09:12 am

I've noticed that the loss of identity, sanity, and mind are a large part of my writing.

The scariest thing I can think of is dementia.

Reply
Eric Desmarais link
12/11/2014 03:09:19 am

I've noticed that the loss of identity, sanity, and mind are a large part of my writing.

The scariest thing I can think of is dementia.

Reply
Susan
12/11/2014 04:51:12 am

Do you really want to know? If so carry on reading...

I have much the same attachment to Samhain and Remembrance Day as you. They are important times of the year. A long time ago, in grade school, I would become offended if people were talking during the Remembrance day service. And without going into too much detail about my paganness, I consider Samhain to be my new year. It's at that time I can feel a large presence. Because of that, I consider it to be the real "New Year"; it's when the living and the dead are closest together.

Anyways, I've thought a lot about death and especially more recently for a couple of reasons. Again I'm not going to go into too much detail. I know you weren't sure what to say when I said on Saturday that I went to a funeral and that's okay. I knew that you were being human and death does indeed hurt the people left behind more than those whom have passed. Not in all cases, but in some, the people die with relative quickness. Much like my friend, she would have passed quickly. And those who are slowly dying hurt the people left behind more because they don't know when the friend/family member is going to pass. It's a built up agony that not everyone can deal with.

I have always believed that I would be shot. I have a reason why I think this to be true, albeit strange for some people, and I think part of me wants it to happen like that. Not because I'm morbid or anything like that, but because I believe most people, like myself, would rather pass quickly than have a pain ridden death. I think the pain is what most people fear.

I dislike going to funerals because not only can I feel and sympathize with the people in attendance but because I over analyze things and my own thoughts sometimes bother me. If I'm distracted at a funeral by talking to friends or family, then we can talk about good things that won't send me into panicked and shaking fits. Unfortunately, I had no one to sit with at the funeral on Saturday so I was really hurting. Victoria was a good friend and I miss her but I feel terrible more for her family because they'd been part of her life for a lot longer than I'd been her friend. I wanted them to remember all the good things so that they could continue with their lives in the best way that they can. I don't know precisely why I felt so terrible but I know that I didn't want them to feel more hurt.

With writing, I find that I'm most interested in the purpose behind an action. Why do people react the way they do? Why do they become defiant in situations where others will cower? Why do people not pay attention to their surroundings when bad things happen? and most importantly in writing I end up analyzing why do I react the ways that I do?

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    S.M. Carrière, a Celtic Studies enthusiast, writes fiction.  And this blog.

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