That is Frank Ostaseski’s second “invitation” that death brings us. This is indeed a hard one to swallow. There are so many things I could reel off right now that there is no way I want to meet… being ill, declining, being dependent, being in pain and on and on and on down to not wanting to endure one more minute of election angst. But, here we are. Whether or not we want X, it is on our doorstep. He tells us we don’t have to like it, we have to MEET it. And, what exactly does that mean?
I have a friend who reccomends the practice of bowing. When we simply can't understand, can't control, chan't change... to simply bow down to what is. She recommends literally doing this. Making a bowing gesture -- reminding yourself you cannot change what is. She even recommends bowing all the way down and lying on the floor. A complete body gesture of refusing to refuse. Simply bow down.
All of our resisting does not make the difficulty go away, it just adds another layer of suffering on top of the already difficult situation. It is not possible to push the difficulty away. Our only choice and power is in choosing to meet it rather than ignore it, hate it, fight it, want things to be different …. To be curious about how to meet pain. How to meet fear. Not to love them, but to welcome them because they have showed up. They have arrived. What are we going to do?
I have a friend who, when dying of cancer, took much solace from the words of the poet John O’Donohue….
“ May you find in yourself a courageous hospitalitytowards what is difficult, painful and unknown.”
It seems that the task may be simply to be curious. Instead of turning away, turn toward with an openness to each moment. It is not easy. It is not something to like or dislike – but to meet fully, with a fearless receptivity. This may be one of the most difficult spiritual tasks – to meet what IS with courage.
And here is the full O’Donohue poem;
A Blessing for a Friend on the Arrival of Illness
by John O'Donohue
Now is the time of dark invitation
beyond a frontier that you did not expect.
Abruptly your old life seems distant.
You barely noticed how each day opened
a path through fields never questioned
yet expected deep down to hold treasure.
Now your time on earth becomes full of threat.
Before your eyes your future shrinks.
.You lived absorbed in the day to day so continuous
with everything around you that you could forget
you were separate.
Now this dark companion has come between you.
.Distances have opened in your eyes.
You feel that against your will
A stranger has married your heart.
Nothing before has made you feel so isolated
and lost.
When the reverberations of shock subside in you,
may grace come to restore you to balance.
May it shape a new space in your heart
to embrace this illness as a teacher
who has come to open your life to new worlds.
May you find in yourself a courageous hospitality
towards what is difficult, painful and unknown.
May you use this illness as a lantern
to illuminate the new qualities that will emerge in you.
May your fragile harvesting of this slow light help you
release whatever has become false in you.
May you trust this light to clear a path
through all the fog of old unease and anxiety
until you feel a rising within you,
a tranquility profound enough to call the storm to stillness.
May you find the wisdom to listen to your illness, ask it why it came,
why it chose your friendship,
where it wants to take you,
what it wants you to know,
what quality of space it wants to create in you,
what you need to learn to become more fully yourself,
that your presence may shine in the world.
May you keep faith with your body,
learning to see it as a holy sanctuary
which can bring this night wound
gradually towards the healing and freedom of dawn.
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