“When it’s over, I want to say all my life
I was a bride married to amazement.
I was the bridegroom, taking the world into my arms.”
~Mary Oliver
“Die before you die”…this is a phrase from the Zen and Sufi spiritual traditions, and I recently got to see the meaning of it up close. For a month, I watched my 97-year-old father decline, leading to a peaceful death last week.
He felt good about his life, and was initially accepting once he realized that his body was starting to change. He said he was ready…my sisters and I had heartfelt conversations with him. But as the decline progressed further and he faced the depth of letting go that death involves, he became intensely agitated. Frankly, it was hard to witness.
He was angry and demanding with almost everyone. Although he wasn’t in pain, he couldn’t get into a comfortable position. And he cried out for help many times even though he couldn’t say what he needed help with.
At one point, he yelled with shock and disbelief, “I think I’m going to die!”
Facing Death
I can’t say what was going on inside him, but it looked like the closer he got, the more he was faced with what he would need to let go of…and he was angry and terrified.
The daily routines he relied on were taken from him, as he no longer had the strength for them. He had to let go of showers, food, and sitting in his favorite chair. He couldn’t reach out for someone’s hand. And ultimately, I think he was scared to realize that he couldn’t stay in the body and that life as he knew it was coming to an end.
He didn’t know what was coming next.
A hospice organization was involved, and the nurses gave him calming medication once he stopped refusing it. So in the last hours, he appeared to be at peace.
“Die Before You Die”
The phrase that kept coming to my mind as I was watching this process unfold was, “Die before you die.” And I was taken over by a flood of gratitude for the spiritual path that has been my home for a long time.
Because I absolutely know for sure that peace comes with letting go of attachments and accepting everything as it is. Peace is right here and available when we stop relying on the mind to control what we can’t control and go with life as it is actually unfolding.
What do we die to before we take our last breath?
- All our expectations,
- Our needs and preferences,
- Our ideas about ourselves and others,
- The entirety of our personal identities,
- Attachment to our appearance, habits, and anything that makes us feel separate from others, and
- The familiarity of what it’s like to live this human life.
We have what we have and enjoy it thoroughly, but know that none of it lasts forever. In fact, nothing in form lasts forever—no thought, no feeling, no relationship, the world as we know it—nothing. And if we’re busy worrying about what we might lose, we can’t fully appreciate what’s here.
Celebrating What’s Here
My experience is that letting go of these attachments is not sad and it’s not about loss. Because when we’re liberated from clinging to what we have, we’re free to celebrate with no limitation. What we have when we have it becomes so fresh! We get to play in the world of form, living this human life, as long as it lasts.
And when it goes, it goes. That’s the nature of all things in form. In a sense, they’re not real because they’re temporary. And clinging doesn’t make them more real—it only feeds our suffering.
Feel into what it might be like to surrender control over everything. Then see what remains, as this is the essence of the profound spiritual life. Here is consciousness, a stable sense of ease and peace that just is. This is the boundless ever-present field of being aware that receives everything with no preference and no attachment.
It’s what is always here when all forms fall away. And experiencing this makes me not fear death at all.
This is not to say I’m not mourning the loss of my father. I honor his memory every day as a ritual right now, and tears come sometimes. But if I look at it very closely, empty of any story about what happened, the deepest peace that I know to be the truth about reality is always present.
Barbara says
Dear Gail,
My heartfelt condolences to you at this time.
Love, Barbara
Gail Brenner says
Thank you so much, Barbara. So kind of you to reach out…
Martina says
Dear Gail
Sincere sympathies to you and your family on the sad loss of your beloved father,
I found your piece enlightening and supportive as I too lost my father earlier this year at 93 after a short sudden illness following a very active life and miss his wonderful presence. But I find myself caught in replaying my own helplessness, witnessing his level of shock, agitation, disappointment and complete disbelief and how he often turned away to face the wall during these final weeks before eventually finding peace. I am grateful for your sharing this sacred experience and your insights with us at this special time.. Another friend’ had a similar experience and described how the soul is ready to leave but the human side wants to remain with life and the loved ones which brings up so much for people and I also found helpful. My thoughts and with you. Take care of yourself. Martina
Gail Brenner says
Thank you so much for your kind words, Martina. As I said in another comment, sometimes people withdraw when they are dying. They have one foot here in the human life and another in the beyond. His turning to the wall was probably a coping mechanism of some kind, maybe protecting you and him to prepare for the end. However you understand it, you are going through a process and I wish for you that you eventually find peace.
Roz Paterson says
Much love to you and yours over the loss of your father. I thank you so much for this honest and insightful article, as it has made a few things in my own experience a little clearer (as your words so often do).
My father is 89 and he is one of these people who has had just about every thing imaginable go wrong with his physical body over the years. Nobody imagined he’d live much past his 60’s.
The last few years have seen a speeding up of his physical and mental diminishing, he is disappearing before our eyes. There isn’t much left of the man he was.
I have so many conflicting and, to be honest, some not so admirable emotions around all this.
I had so hoped that I would have the precious time with my father, that you and many others describe – a spiritual bonding and closeness. But we have become steadily more distant, awkward and difficult with each other. I feel sad and somewhat guilty about this.
Watching a dear parent shrivel away physically and mentally is the most testing time I have experienced to date, but at the same time, I recognise there is everything you talked about available for me to experience.
I find myself hoping his soul will win over his human side (as mentioned by Martina above) sooner rather than later and he will make his transition before things get any more demeaning and hopeless for both him and us.
I know that sounds harsh and possibly lacking in compassion, but I so sincerely believe in the eternal continuation of the spirit that I know things would be so wonderful for him if he let go of this misery.
Sorry to rave, but your article resonated strongly with me.
Thank you so much.
Gail Brenner says
Hi Roz,
Sometimes people who are dying distance themselves from people they love to protect both themselves and the other. Maybe this explains what is happening with your father. He may be distancing, but that doesn’t keep you from being grounded in yourself, showing up the way you want to. No matter what his reaction, you might want to consider saying everything in your heart, if you haven’t done that already – not expressing the frustration, but love and appreciation if that feels true for you.
Life is taking care of itself in the way it is moved to. And it doesn’t always do what we want it to. Have great compassion for you and for him.
Love, Gail
Roz says
Thank you so much for your reply. So much help.
Absolutely I will do this.
Thank you.
Peggy says
Thank you Gail for this beautiful open sharing. Being with the dying teaches so much about, as you say, dying before we die.
I witnessed first my Mom’s passing two+ years ago… a woman who had been a hospice volunteer, and so comfortable with death. She was in deep peace and bliss right up to the last 3-4 hours, when some (I am guessing) old contracted energies/thoughts were moving through and she became very agitated… until she feel back into peace and then dissolved completely into that Peace.
Then my Dad’s passing a few months ago was more similar to your Dad’s… he expressed lots of resistance until those last hours, then again like Mom, he dissolved into that Peace.
I too find myself at a new apparent Edge that is inviting me to deepen in my own practice… to die before I die. My parents deaths have both been very instructive. And even so, I am in a bit of shock at present, with no ground under my feet and the old identity fighting to retain its control. I remember being with a massage therapist many years ago who did really deep work, and as waves of old emotion came up, and then again as I felt a release of each wave, she would simply say “welcome”…to each movement, seemingly good or bad. All is welcome here. Thank you Gail for pointing me back to that.
Gail Brenner says
So beautifully said, Peggy. All of life experiences are our teacher when we see them that way….
Marshall Lord says
So live your life that the fear of death can never enter your heart. Trouble no one about their religion; respect others in their view, and demand that they respect yours. Love your life, perfect your life, beautify all things in your life. Seek to make your life long and its purpose in the service of your people. Prepare a noble death song for the day when you go over the great divide. Always give a word or a sign of salute when meeting or passing a friend, even a stranger, when in a lonely place. Show respect to all people and grovel to none.
When it comes your time to die, be not like those whose hearts are filled with the fear of death, so that when their time comes, they weep and pray for a little more time to live their lives over again in a different way. Sing your death song and die like a hero going home.
Chief Tecumseh
Shawnee Nation
Ohio, USA
(1768-1813)
This gives me chills. Native Americans are truly in touch with their spirit.
Gail Brenner says
So beautiful, Marshall. Thanks so much for posting it here. xoxo
Garrett Brouns says
To die before you die,
It’s an experience beyond no other , LSD , it found me and I didn’t know it existed until about 30 years later , i thought i had a bad trip , embarrassed about what I experienced, every one said , you had a bad trip , nope , it was the true meaning of diying before you die……