Halloween, Death and Funerals

I've been somewhat consumed by the impending death of my mother-in-law. I'm sad that her time here with us is almost used up, grateful for having known her and moved by the way that my husband is grieving the loss of his mother, even already now that he's accepting the reality that she won't be around much longer.

Too, it seems that I've been hearing about death quite a bit lately. The death of loved ones close to people I know. It's almost as if death is something the season brings, along with the falling of leaves and the shifting winds.

It seems that there's some truth to this and I'm not the only one who's been thinking this way. Just the other day I received an email from a friend and mentor. She shared a lovely article that I'd like to pass along to you as it provides a fresh and soothing perspective that I've taken great inspiration from.

Halloween, Death and Funerals
By: Michelle Schubnel


I have always loved Halloween. 

As a kid, it was about scoring as
much candy as possible. In my teenage
years, it was a night when I could
justify getting into trouble. And
as an adult, I have totally loved
costuming-up for Halloween parties.

Halloween now has a new meaning for
me. My mom died on October 28, 2005
and her funeral was on Halloween. A
few hours after she died we set
October 31 as the date for the funeral.
At the time I thought, "Well this
really sucks. From now on Halloween
won't be fun because the day will
always remind me of my mom's funeral."

My mother's funeral was a spectacular
East Coast autumn day... clear, crisp
and sunny. As I noticed signs of the
changing season, I remembered something
that I learned from my study of and
participation in Native American
traditions.

According to Native American philosophy,
the time between Halloween (October 31st)
and All Souls Day (November 1st) is the
time of year when the "veil between the
two worlds is the thinnest." It is the
time when the spirit world is closest
and most connected to our physical world
here on earth.

That perspective shifted how I felt about
my mom being buried on Halloween. Instead
of it being a bummer, it was now a gift.
Suddenly it was "pretty cool" that my mom's
funeral was on Halloween.

The next Halloween, one year after my
mother's funeral, I participated in a
sweat lodge ceremony - a native American
prayer tradition, conducted inside a sweat
lodge, which looks like an igloo but feels
like a sauna. During the ceremony we were
reminded that the end of October through
the beginning of November is a powerful
time to connect with the souls and spirits
of people who have passed on.

During that sweat lodge ceremony I felt
my Mom's presence in a big way, much more
so than at any other time since her death.
It was incredibly powerful and enabled me
to see and experience how I can still have
a profound connection with my mom, even
though she is no longer here physically
on earth.

It's now been 5 years since my mother's
death. With the passing of time I have
found that the intense pain and sadness
has lessened, and the overall missing of
my mom has increased. 

If you are experiencing grief from the
loss of a loved one, I encourage you to
take advantage of this special time of
year and connect with the people in your
life who have passed on. Allow the feelings
of sadness and grief to be fully felt. Take
comfort in special memories. Remember and
honor all that you loved about the person.
Ask for guidance and support. This is a
powerful time of year to reconnect.

In memory of:
Barbara Ann Schubnel
1943 - 2005

Barbara at the Venetian
Vegas Trip - Summer 2004

I love and miss you Mom. It's too bad you
never got to meet my wonderful husband Adam.
I know you would love him as much as I do.

reprinted with permission, Michelle Schubnel, Coach & Grow RICH, www.CoachandGrowRICH.com

To Do or Not To Do, That is the Question

I was very fortunate to see and hear the Dalai Lama speak two days ago. He talked of compassion and its centrality to creating happiness through our actions. Intentions and devotion alone are not enough, he said. It is in doing that we affect real shifts.

The question was posed, "What should I do when I see a homeless person who asks for money? I see them often and know that I can't possibly help them all, and sometimes just walk past and do nothing. Yet I still feel compassion and know I should do something. What should I do?"

His Holiness answered with the following example from his own experience [paraphrased]. "While traveling in India recently, I had some time -- although not alot -- before a teaching engagement so I went out and walked the streets of the city I was visiting. I came upon hundreds of the poorest people, thin and hungry, with thin and hungry children and thin and hungry dogs. I knew that in the time that I had, I could not possibly help them. Yet I spent my limited time among them. I had to choose to do what could be perceived as nothing for each of them directly. I am doing many other things that have long term effects and my energy this day would be spent continuing on that path. If you can do something to help just one person, do it! If you cannot, it is okay. You are also doing many other things that have long term effects."

This answer provides me with both relief and uncertainty as to whether I'm doing enough, a paradoxical lesson I suppose I would expect from this wise and holy man! Okay, so I have to choose. I can feel good when I make a direct impact on one person and get the direct benefit of knowing my altruism made a difference. ...and the homeless person gains a little cash for their discretionary use. Perhaps this makes them feel good, too. This is certainly a good thing. Then there are the times, that I have no cash, or feel unsafe, or see more homeless faces than I can impact personally. Then what? Well, then I have to turn inside, feel impacted by the compassion I feel and use this feeling to fuel my other, broader, longer term projects. I might choose one to dedicate more focus and energy toward or have something that I'm already immersed in with big impacts already underway. I will then choose to give myself over to that project and know that I am doing what I can. The uncertainty I feel continues as I don't always, if ever, get to see the direct effect my doing has on those whom I serve. I must trust that my compassionate efforts of right action are enough, despite knowing that I may never get to see the happiness I bring.

Helen Keller summed it up well when she wrote, "When we do the best we can, we never know what miracle is wrought in our life, or in the life of another." Just look at the impact her life and her words have had on the world!

Although I don't know the specifics, I do sense that "miracle" in each new day. So, I'm choosing to do something each day, keeping an open heart and accessing my own wisdom, continuing to believe, without a doubt, that I am making a difference. ...and the difference we're all making together is profound! Look at the company we keep!