Vertical Divider
Although death affects 100% of the population, it is almost always referred to as some kind of defeat. We borrow war language to talk about valiantly fighting battles against illness and disease. From that perspective, we all ultimately lose. I think there is a better way to approach the end of life.
For some of us, end of life can be a time of increased clarity about what is important or other deeply meaningful personal and spiritual development. Others may attempt to resolve difficult relationships or to express sentiments that have been left unsaid for too long. Whatever life's journey has been, and whatever is needed or possible at the final transition, each of us deserves to be accompanied with compassion and unconditional love. What is a Death Midwife?Death Midwives are holistic practitioners who offer practical, emotional, and spiritual support to people at the end of life and their loved ones. Incorporating a multi-faith perspective, we honor the dying person's perspectives on life, death, and the afterlife, and respect spiritual, religious, agnostic, and atheist beliefs. We inhabit the spaces between the medical profession and the funeral industry and strive to serve and facilitate, not to judge or fix.
As a Death Midwife, I might assist with/by:
When is the right time for you to contact me?
Please use my contact page to reach out to me with questions or to arrange a free 30-minute consultation. |
Selected PoetryEstuary
by Danna Faulds There is peace here, where the river
widens to meet the sea. The rapids are past; the boulders and the rocky places at last give way to a broad and sweeping current, flowing slowly into vastness. The river moves silently, tastes the salty tide that marks its demise, and slips without a backward glance, into the ocean’s infinite embrace. Come to Dust
by Ursula K. Le Guin Spirit, rehearse the journeys of the body
that are to come, the motions of the matter that held you. Rise up in the smoke of palo santo. Fall to the earth in the falling rain. Sink in, sink down to the farthest roots. Mount slowly in the rising sap to the branches, the crown, the leaf-tips. Come down to earth as leaves in autumn to lie in the patient rot of winter. Rise again in the spring’s green fountains. Drift in sunlight with the sacred pollen to fall in blessing. All earth’s dust has been life, held soul, is holy. Thank You
by Ross Gay If you find yourself half naked
and barefoot in the frosty grass, hearing, again, the earth’s great, sonorous moan that says you are the air of the now and gone, that says all you love will turn to dust, and will meet you there, do not raise your fist. Do not raise your small voice against it. And do not take cover. Instead, curl your toes into the grass, watch the cloud ascending from your lips. Walk through the garden’s dormant splendor. Say only, thank you. Thank you. Sabbath Poem 2002, III
by Wendell Berry We come at last to the dark and enter in. We are given bodies newly made out of their absence from one another in the light of the ordinary day. We come to the space between ourselves, the narrow doorway, and pass through into the land of the wholly loved. |