Death is not nearly as frightening or sad as you may have heard, but you'll have to trust me on that until you get to know Death more intimately for yourself. I encourage you to strike up a friendship of your own, perhaps by volunteering at a hospice or nursing home. If you're not sure this is a good idea, here are five reasons to get comfortable with Death:
The following is an excerpt from my new book, The Karma Queens' Guide to Relationships: I can conjure three distinct memories from my childhood home ...
By far the most important takeaway Berra shared with me was this: Moving forward didn't mean leaving the memory of his parents behind. He could play ball and be a husband and father -- all while keeping the memory of his parents alive.
I have always had lucid dreams as far as I can remember. As a child I had three reoccurring dreams based around events in my daily life. The first...
One might say it is only logical that the parents of the deceased have all the say of when, where, and how to deal with their deceased child's personal items. There lies the rub; it is parents, plural, not one person but two people making the decision.
I've finally said my beautiful goodbye, when I've finally let go, I'll meet the person who's been waiting for me all along. Someone willing to love me exactly as I am, always, and no matter what. It will be me.
By dying in meditation the aspirants are able to die with the mind being in complete awareness, calm and undisturbed by pain or emotions. Moreover, the aspirants practice their ultimate belief that their body and the material world are not their pure self and that they detach from them.
This is to you-to those of you who were just babies when you lost a parent.
My friend is fighting for her life. Prayer requests are going out and prayers are going up. Family members are flying to be by her side. Facebook is lit up with posts of love and support for her and her family. Words. Prayers. Hope. That's all we can offer.
Many people talk about "life lessons" parents teach them, but I have found that my parent's deaths taught me six valuable lessons useful for leadership of any team or family. Here's what I learned.
Mindfulness was my guide in pleading on his behalf for a dignified death, and mindfulness was all that remained when he was permitted to breathe his last. And, mindfulness is here now, in the constant change of mourning and the enduring love.
Pain simply is. It's a natural, normal response to loss. But the literature in the self-help world, in the therapy world, and sadly, yes even in the world of spiritual guidance, is heavy on blame. Grief is considered unhealthy. A "bad" experience.
I'm so acutely aware of Death in the field right now. Always with us, Death is. And yet I've been carefully and heartfully tracking, as I know so man...
By being aware of these simple things to do or not do, you will be a much more appreciated and valued comforter in this dark time. You will be truly supporting and helping the person you care about in their hour of need.
You're dealing with divorce, not actual death. You've got a life to live! For you, acceptance brings the promise of a new beginning -- one filled with infinite possibilities -- not an end. And that's a precious gift, as any dying person would tell you.
I was honored to know my mom and I'm grateful she let me share in her journey. It was a bittersweet gift filled with life lessons. I was lying on the sofa beside her at her home when she took her final breaths, and though it was of course a time of grief, she made sure we were ready.
He also doesn't plan on stopping. In addition to doing speaking gigs and creating a mindfulcop.com site to get the word out, he's even taught his kids to meditate. Carson recommends anyone who is open to it-- especially those interfacing with the public-- should try an app like HeadSpace or take a mindfulness course just to see how it improves their life.
The following is my interpretation of a family member's journey to find peace with dying. I was close by with my sister and brother-in-law while they struggled to find a cure. I watched, listened, and gave support. The path to cancer remission is hard, and I honor those who fight it.
I started with a very basic definition of dead: something that's not moving or breathing. Then I explained how some things are never alive and others are alive for a while and then they die. And finally, I used Elmo's World type questions to help him sort out the ideas and the differences.
Along the road somewhere, deep into the night, I began to reflect on why it was so important for us to be there. Why were we making such an effort to see someone who would neither know we were there, nor have any chance of speaking to us? Was there any logic to it?