Dreaming Into Dying: A Practice for Letting Go

 

dreaming-into-dying

Patience

I thought since last week I wrote on the topic of dreaming into retirement, well – why not take it a step further and look at dreams of the dying or dreams of death?

Research Into Dreams of the Dying

Here’s an interesting article from the New York Times February 2, 2016.  The story is about some work from a team of researchers led by Dr. Christopher Kerr at Hospice Buffalo.   The study was conducted with fifty-nine terminally ill patients, nearly all of whom reported having dreams or visions, most of which were comforting.  The article noted that

The dreams and visions loosely sorted into categories: opportunities to engage with the deceased; loved ones “waiting;” unfinished business. Themes of love, given or withheld, coursed through the dreams, as did the need for resolution and even forgiveness. In their dreams, patients were reassured that they had been good parents, children and workers. They packed boxes, preparing for journeys, and, like Mr. Majors, often traveled with dear companions as guides. Although many patients said they rarely remembered their dreams, these they could not forget.

Reading about “traveling companions” reminded me of a dream my father related to me some weeks before he passed away.

Dreams and Dying as Part of Life’s Process Toward Completion

The article and the research it discusses are remarkable because it addresses one of the taboo subjects around dying as a life process – is there preparation for it with our psyche’s assistance (through dreams or visions) and whether persons sometimes know in advance that death is imminent (notwithstanding the lack of knowledge of an illness).  Our cause and effect, materialist-objectivist obsession with measuring what we can know (or pretend to know, if enough people are in agreement) generally simply denies outright the mystery of the end of life.  But as more people die at home or with hospice and palliative care providers who are not leading a pitched against the “enemy” – collectively disease and death – it seems that we are gaining more personal experience with death and dying.  It might represent a gradual questioning or moving away from the model of technocratic dying in hospitals, where expressions of our relationship with and compassion for dying loved ones generally had to be subjected to the intrusions of our medical-industrial establishment and its protocols administered by “experts.”

A Scientific American Mind article entitled “Vivid Dreams Comfort the Dying” also explored Dr. Kerr’s work, which was published in the American Journal of Hospice & Palliative Care.  It seems that the conclusions are likely to be consistent with dreams of dying and deathbed visions and visitations recorded throughout history: that most of the time the person is comforted by the dream or vision of their impending demise, as if Psyche were assisting with the transitions as a kind of midwife.

The Experience Is More Likely to be Labelled a “Vision” if it is Comforting to the Dying Person

If the experience is upsetting to the person, typically a patient receiving hospice care, it might otherwise be termed a “hallucination” or “delirium.”  But I like the unequivocal language of this post from Crossroads Hospice about end-of-life visions:

These visions are not hallucinations or a reaction to medication. The most important thing to do if your loved one is seeing visions or having visitation dreams is to acknowledge and support them. Do not argue with your loved one about the experience, correct them, or try to explain the vision. Do not panic as that can upset your loved one. Instead, take them at their word and encourage them to share the experience with you.

“As a caregiver, it is not our job to prove, disprove, or do experiments,” says Carolyn. “We are there to provide support and comfort.

In most cases, these end-of-life visions are indeed a source of great comfort to the person experiencing them.

It’s reassuring to know that as more people are able to die at home with support from hospice care provided, this aspect of the death taboo is losing more of its sting.  A link to one last resource guide is in order, this one McGill University called “Nearing the End of Life: A Guide for Relatives and Friends of the Dying.”

© 2017 Barbara Cashman  www.DenverElderLaw.org

 

The Dreaded “O” Word and Aging Into Wisdom

Old

 

I recently attended an educational lunch program put on by a financial advisor at a restaurant downtown.  It was geared to attorneys and their retirement planning needs. Most of us in attendance were “old enough” to be planning for retirement already and we had a number of questions answered.  A latecomer to the program arrived after we had finished our lunch.  He proceeded to ask our host a question about a “hypothetical 75 year old” but I suspected this colleague’s age to be well in excess of 80 years.  What really struck me however, was his use of the expression “O word” as if to acknowledge some common implied cultural unwillingness to use the term “old” as if it were a pejorative term.  I was both puzzled and troubled by this use of the term which I had never heard before, let alone from the mouth of an octogenarian!

So maybe there’s more than a few of us who simply refuse to accept this aging thing that we do, but I insist that there is a bright future for wisdom in elderhood. . . Here’s a link to a New York Times article  from 2014 about the science (from a psychological perspective) of “older and wiser” and  a short article from last month in Psychology Today entitled “Are Older People Wiser?”

Wisdom is one of the very few positive stereotypes of elderhood, but it’s of course not necessarily true.  A passive aging focused on the denial of age and eventual death does not lead to a ripeness of wisdom in one’s elder years. The jury is still out on this “older and wiser” issue, but while elders’ brains generally slow down, an elder’s experience and knowledge can make up for the shortcomings in processing speed and distractibility.  But getting to elderhood requires one to accept and even embrace our aging, learn from experience and to grow one’s knowledge along the way.  If we’re busily engaged with denying our aging, resenting that we’re “not who we used to be,” then that wisdom piece will remain elusive because we are failing to come to terms with a most basic premise of this life: the length of a life is uncertain and all we truly have is the present.

So, what is wisdom?  I liked these two definitions found at the Collins dictionary:

Wisdom is the ability to use your experience and knowledge in order to make sensible decisions or judgments; and in American

the quality of being wise; power of judging rightly and following the soundest course of action, based on knowledge, experience, understanding, etc.; good judgment; sagacity

There is also the wisdom tradition, which is synonymous with Perennialism, defined in Wikipedia as “the idea that there is a perennial or mystic inner core to all religious or spiritual traditions, without the trappings, doctrinal literalism, sectarianism, and power structures that are associated with institutionalized religion.”

So I turn to a favorite classic of literature here, Aldous Huxley’s The Perennial Philosophy, finding particularly relevant his quote of Francois Fenelon (at 257 of the Harper Perennial Modern Classics edition) to the subject of wisdom as an outgrowth of embracing the aging process as part of our experience of our selves:

Faults will turn to good, provided we use then to our own humiliation, without slackening in the effort to correct ourselves.  Discouragement serves no possible purpose; it is simply the despair of wounded self-love.  The real way of profiting by the humiliation of one’s own faults is to face them in their true hideousness, without ceasing to hope in God, while hoping nothing from self.

If we can avoid becoming overwhelmed with the discouragement of old age and its changes to us and in us, perhaps we can exercise that sagacity referred to above.  There a number of resources in the wisdom of aging category, including the late Reb Zalman Schachter-Shalomi’s book From Age-ing to Sage-ing which led to the founding of the Sage-ing International organization, which hosts workshops, webinars, conferences and other forums for fostering “spiritual eldering.”  Their website states that moving from age-ing to sage-ing involves the following:

  1. Developing a willingness to deal with life completion and overcoming the desire to stay in denial of aging.
  2. Coming to terms with our mortality.
  3. Acquiring the skills for working on the inside by practicing journaling, meditation, imaginal exercises, and spiritual intimacy by creating safe and sacred space in dyads.
  4. Paying attention to our body, feelings, mind, and spirit, being guided by them and maintaining them in the right tone, mood, and attitude.
  5. Giving  a real hearing to the inner voices – allowing all the minorities within the whole person their witness.
  6. Beginning to do life repair:
  • in health
  • in practical matters with wills and testaments
  • in relationships and between generations
  • by reaching into the past and offering release and healing
  • through forgiveness work with release from vindictiveness
  • by finding the pearls in the anxious memories
  • 7. Doing the philosophical homework by raising questions about the purpose and the meaning of our lives.
  • 8. Serving as elders to others as guides, mentors, and agent of healing and reconciliation on behalf of the planet, the nation, and the family by being wisdom keepers.
  • 9. Preparing for a serene death and afterlife, furnishing our solitude with God.
  • 10. Doing this nobly in connectedness with the inner, actualized self,  already realized, individuated, and complete.This is a formidable list, but fortunately there is assistance in the Sage-ing community for these efforts.  There are also other excellent resources which may involve a bit less introspection and life review.Jane Barton (of Cardinal Life LLC), an excellent local speaker with whom I am acquainted, has a program she has entitled “The Journey of Aging.”  Part of her programming covers the denial of death and the aging process and how that unwillingness to engage with our mortality adversely impacts our present abilities to consciously and deliberately plan for our future.

© 2017 Barbara Cashman  www.DenverElderLaw.org

The Eclipse and the End of Life As We Know It

True Illusion

The eclipse that is set to occur on Monday, August 21, 2017 is a big deal. I have several friends who are traveling to get a better view of this event.  One couple I know is going to Fort Laramie, Wyoming and other friends to McCook, Nebraska.  Here’s a handy map that shows the strip of total eclipse. Based on my research, the last coast to coast eclipse in the US was ninety-nine years ago.  I remember seeing a partial eclipse in Denver almost thirty years ago.  It was pretty cool.  So, if you want to “prepare” for this eclipse, go to this link on the NASA website.  After all, it’s set to last for nearly three hours, reaching its maximum at 11:47 a.m. in my neck of the woods.

So what is it about the eclipse that would cause me to couple it with. . . the end of life?!  Well, here goes.

The word eclipse comes from the Greek ekleipsis, which means abandonment, cessation, failing, omission or flaw.

But remember that the eclipse merely obscures the sun from our sight – the moon appearing before the sun to block it does not extinguish the sun, but from our eyesight-based superficial understanding of what we think we see. . . . well, what’s the difference?

It’s a matter of vision, not eyesight.

Perhaps we eclipse-seekers are simply in search of awe, what some of our forebears would call miracles. Where should we search – in the familiar places or the unfamiliar, even uncomfortable ones? That’s hard to say. Few of us look for that awe in the mundane and everyday, but that is almost always where it seems to be found, discovered, seen.

This awe can cause a cognitive shift in our awareness, as in the “overview effect.” The term was first coined by Frank White in his 1987 book The Overview Effect — Space Exploration and Human Evolution and is described in this Wikipedia entry as

the experience of seeing firsthand the reality of the Earth in space, which is immediately understood to be a tiny, fragile ball of life, “hanging in the void”, shielded and nourished by a paper-thin atmosphere. From space, national boundaries vanish, the conflicts that divide people become less important, and the need to create a planetary society with the united will to protect this “pale blue dot” becomes both obvious and imperative.

It strikes me that this eclipse, and its draw to our experience of life, is not unlike the awe at the end of life. The drawing and that movement is perhaps generated in different directions so to speak. We can “attend” the eclipse and experience it in ways we enjoy, but the end of our life demands a different kind of presence – one no less awe-some, one that we may think we are not quite ready to experience.

In his book Places of the Heart: The Psychogeography of Everyday Life, Colin Ellard looks at places of awe.  At 154 of the book he looks at research into experiences of awe which focus on two essential aspects: a feeling of vastness and a sense of accommodation.  Vastness is the feeling of hugeness and grandeur, while accommodation describes our response to what created the feeling.  Ellard notes this often involves contradiction. An excellent article on awe (and its self-diminishing aspects) and prosocial behavior can be found here.

What is the inevitable here? We can easily face and even celebrate the inevitable when it is. . . . not too close and personal!  But what of dying and how can we recognize it as it approaches and obscures our sight ? Most of us don’t want to see death coming, so we turn away!

When people refuse to have the conversation about dying and its uncertain circumstances, to name or appoint someone to speak for them in the event they are unable to do so on their own, well – then the doctors will decide for you.  Here’s an interview with Dr. Jessica Zitter, ICU and palliative care doc and author of Extreme Measure, a book about the ethics of end of life medicine. Thanks for sharing that with me Georgine!

So maybe there is some preparing we can do for the eclipse(s) of our life. . . .   I think these Buddhist sayings (dhammas) sum up this essential changeable quality of our nature and that of the cosmos most succinctly:

I am of the nature to decay, I have not gone beyond decay.
I am of the nature to be diseased, I have not gone beyond disease.
I am of the nature to die, I have not gone beyond death.
All that is mine, dear and delightful, will change and vanish.

It’s a hard place to just be, to be with the uncertainty – will there be a sun that returns after the moon passes over it completely?

The eclipse of –  disease, misfortune, old age, fear of change, death.

Perhaps we can see this eclipse opportunity as an invitation, a path, to assist us in recalling how to revere, to feel deep respect or awe for something, for our relationship with the world and with each other.  In this respect, we remember reverence through nature – our nature – not outside, but inside each of us.

© 2017 Barbara Cashman  www.DenverElderLaw.org

When the Decedent Was a Hoarder

Tightrope

What is hoarding? I like this simple definition from the Anxiety and Depression Association of America.

Hoarding is the persistent difficulty discarding or parting with possessions, regardless of their actual value. The behavior usually has deleterious effects—emotional, physical, social, financial, and even legal—for a hoarder and family members.

Hoarding is “officially” a disorder, meaning it was reclassified as such in the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual (DSM-5) in 2013.  Prior to its recent “promotion” to a disorder, it was considered an aspect of obsessive-compulsive disorder, so many folks who suffer from OCD (or OCPD) are also hoarders. Hoarding has also been linked to attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder (ADHD) and depression. Sometimes hoarding may be associated with an eating disorder like pica (eating non-food materials), Prader-Willi syndrome (a genetic disorder), psychosis, or dementia.

Hoarding for elders can be indicative of depression and/or anxiety and for those elders who may have been “pack rats” in younger years, the compulsive habit can worsen in later life.  Here’s a link to a University of California at San Francisco study that looks at elders’ hoarding as a health concern.  That study concludes that hoarding in elders often seems to worsen and becomes more problematic, but for reasons that remain unclear.

How does hoarding impact one’s life? There seems to be, to a certain extent, an inverse relationship of stuff hoarded to quality of life. The more stuff clutters a home, the unhealthier and more dangerous can be the living conditions. Shame, fear of judgment, distrust of others being allowed in to the hoarder’s living space can contribute to the hoarder’s sense of isolation.

It seems straightforward that an elder who has a dwelling place crammed full of junk is much less likely to allow caregivers into the home or others who might able to otherwise assist an elder with managing the challenges of independent living.

What can be done to help a hoarder while they are still alive?  The answer to that depends on the type of hoarding behavior as the intervention must be tailored to it.  And yes, in case you’re wondering, there is a Hoarders Anonymous, but my antivirus software won’t let me visit their website. . ..

So, this post is about hoarding in the estate context – what does that mean?

It means that the job of identifying the decedent’s assets can be difficult, at best.  Finding relevant information can be extremely challenging or impossible due to the sheer volume of papers collected by the deceased hoarder.  Many years ago, I represented the personal representative of an estate of someone who was a hoarder.  The decedent had died in a skilled nursing facility, but inside her home remained dozens of filing cabinets as well as many boxes of papers.  When I informed the personal representative about some documentation I would need, she informed me that she was fairly certain that the papers I needed were kept in the home, but it would take several weeks to go through those storage places to try and locate them.

What if the deceased was an “organized” hoarder and kept only certain types of items?

Well, that might not be so bad, but I haven’t seen that one yet.  In my experience, there are few “selective” hoarders.  I think that has to do with the fine line between collecting and hoarding!

And if the deceased was an indiscriminate or disorganized hoarder? Well, I don’t think there’s a patron saint of the chronically disorganized who happen to be hoarders – but maybe there should be.  You might recall that Dante’s Inferno, in the fourth circle (of hell) to be precise, identifies the twin opposite behaviors of those hoarders and wasters (or prodigals).  That circle is all about greed as the Fourth Circle of Hell is guarded by Pluto, the Greco-Roman god of wealth:

Here, too, I saw a nation of lost souls,
far more than were above: they strained their chests
against enormous weights, and with mad howls
rolled them at one another. Then in haste
they rolled them back, one party shouting out:
“Why do you hoard?” and the other: “Why do you waste?”

Canto VII, lines 25–30, Ciardi translation.

So, it is apparent that the proliferation of stuff and its unceasing accumulation has obvious negative effects on one’s relationships with others and the outside world in general, but. . .

What can we do about detecting the causes of hoarding and helping a hoarder?

It’s a fine line indeed between “collecting” and “hoarding.”  That Depression-era mindset of scarcity, coupled with distrust (anxiety) about the future – the origin of one’s next meal, etc., can contribute mightily to a worsening of an already latent propensity to collect.  Here’s an article about that topic.

And if you think there isn’t an opposite extreme that people can engage in (see Dante’s reference to the “wasters” above), here’s an article about compulsive decluttering.  The root of the problem may be the link between either type of activity and its origin with obsessive thoughts.

In short, there are ways to help a hoarder – and in particular to avoid making the person (not their affliction) a spectacle of ridicule.  If this sounds like self-interest for the family members of a hoarder, as in those persons who will be responsible for going through the hoarder’s possessions – well it certainly is in their interest to help!

© 2017 Barbara Cashman  www.DenverElderLaw.org

Deathbed Ethics, Proposition 106 and Remembering How to Die

Closed Shutters

Closed Shutters

We have forgotten how to die.  We have forgotten that it is death, as part of our life, which makes us human.  Death is just like the rest of our life – unpredictable and subject to constant change. That is what we have forgotten.  We have become obsessed with our identity and being “in control,” in such ways that support our limited notions of autonomy.  This is superficial, to say the least and I don’t think it has anything to do with preserving anyone’s human dignity.

In Proposition 106, physician assisted death (PAD) or physician assisted suicide is put forward as a “right” to be asserted by a limited and defined class of individuals suffering from a terminal illness who are not expected to live for more than six months.  But wait, this sounds like qualifications for a hospice script – doesn’t it?  Have people who are advancing the recognition of this “right to die” fully explored the parameters of hospice and palliative care?  I think many have not.  It is much simpler, much more straightforward and slogan-empowering to clamor for a right than it is to take a “wait and see” approach – which is what most of us end up doing anyway. Why do I bring up palliative and hospice care in this context? Because I think the need to advance any “right to die” here is superfluous to the already existing but not well-known by the public services of hospice and palliative care health professionals.

In my previous posts, I mentioned the 1997 U.S. Supreme Court decision of Washington v. Glucksberg, 502 U.S. 702, 737 (1997) and I want to follow up just a bit on that decision and its wake.  I’m thinking particularly of Justice O’Connor’s concurrence, referring to pain management palliative and hospice care:

In sum, there is no need to address the question whether suffering patients have a constitutionally cognizable interest in obtaining relief from the suffering that they may experience in the last days of their lives. There is no dispute that dying patients in Washington and New York can obtain palliative care, even when doing so would hasten their deaths. The difficulty in defining terminal illness and the risk that a dying patient’s request for assistance in ending his or her life might not be truly voluntary justifies the prohibitions on assisted suicide we uphold here.

The “right to die” in terms of PAD would appear to be promoted at the expense of the prospect of any effective management of pain.  The further juxtaposition can be seen in these two articles by leading legal scholars: Robert Burt’s “The Supreme Court Speaks – Not Assisted Suicide but a Constitutional Right to Palliative Care,” in 337 New England Journal of Medicine 1234 (1997) and Erwin Chemerinsky’s “Washington v. Glucksberg Was Tragically Wrong,” in 106 Michigan Law Review 1501 (2008).

So why do I write another post about Prop 106? Because the “right to die” as it concerns a patient’s right to end their pain . . . is simply too misleading.  Terminal pain management, about which most people want to believe this proposed legislation concerns itself – is another matter separate from “the right to die.”  This is borne out by the Oregon statistics from 2015 which I referred to in my previous post.

Let’s set the record straight here.  The information collected from Oregon about those persons choosing to fill the prescription for the life ending medications did so based on their diminished enjoyment of life, their loss of autonomy, and their perceived loss of dignity. A surprisingly small number of people mentioned “inadequate pain control” as a reason to choose assisted death from a physician.  Why might this be that pain control factored in so small a number of responses? We don’t know because the statistics available don’t offer further information.  But I think it is not a stretch to conclude that most of those folks choosing to get a scrip filled for lethal medications already had their pain pretty well managed, thanks to hospice or palliative care.

The real reasons for these folks to get the medications was to manage the psychic pain of living at the end of their life, in which their terminal illness compromised their ability to live independently, autonomously and with the dignity with which they had previously known.  This is a qualitatively different kind of pain! This pain may be incidental to the “pain of dying” but it is most certainly a pain of living, living with the uncertainty of what challenges tomorrow will bring.  We have simply forgotten this important detail!

What kind of patient autonomy do we want to protect as a matter of law and public policy? I think we need to be clear about what this law would change and how it would work, and not to be dazzled by the shine of a new “right” that has little to do with the context – medical, legal, ethical or psychological – of how such a right would be exercised.  If this Prop 106 is really about saying it is okay to take one’s own life (I don’t even like saying “commit suicide” because it is fraught with moral implications that further perpetuate the underlying loss of the person’s survivors), then let’s be clear about that.  I believe that is the implicit underlying message, but few people are comfortable with looking much under the surface of the legislation and its long-term unintended implications.

We are talking about the pain of living a life without the independence and autonomy to which we had grown accustomed and the terminal disease or condition robs the patient of that dignity of autonomy.  I will be the first to state I am not equipped to decide for another when their terminal pain has reached such a level that palliative or hospice medications will not suffice to manage the pain.  But I think the pain we are talking about is not the physical pain, which palliative and hospice care providers have become experts in managing, no we are talking about the pain of living a life, the end of which is one “we have not chosen.”  It is implicitly stating – I do not want that challenge and I choose death instead.  Let’s be honest about that choice and our ability to choose it!

In some important respects, Prop 106 presents essentially a right to die versus a right to hope.  If we are in the midst of a terminal illness, rapidly advancing in its ravages of our bodies and our abilities to function independently, we are much less likely to give up hope if we feel supported, if we are not made to feel as if we are a burden on others.  Here physician assisted death resembles the choices underlying suicide as they vary in number among different cultures across that world.  Suicide has been characterized by Durkheim as related to sociocultural factors and in particular the integration of a person in family, economic, political and religious life.   I posit that we ought to be looking to each other for assistance, for hope, especially in the face of imminent death, and not be so eager to show the door to those of us who feel they have become a burden or simply want to “choose death.”

© Barbara E. Cashman 2016   www.DenverElderLaw.org

Elderhood and Winter As Life Stages

 

Siennese Waters

Siennese Waters

I would like to wish everyone a Happy New Year.  Instead of another post written by me, I am simply closing this last post of 2015 year with a quote from the nineteenth century Scottish author and poet George Macdonald, from his book Adela Cathcart:

The winter is the childhood of the year….It is as if God
spoke to each of us according to our need: My son, my
daughter, you are growing old and cunning; you must grow a
child again, with my son, this blessed birthtime.  You are
growing old and selfish; you must become a child. You
growing old and careful; you must become a child. You
growing old and distrustful; you must become a child.
are growing old and petty, and weak, and foolish; you
become a child – my child…

May this quote, this observation of the season, assist each of us in focusing on and appreciating  our inward state of affairs, and not just the easily recognizable outward, external and material world.

© Barbara E. Cashman 2015   www.DenverElderLaw.org

 

 

Autopoiesis in Language and Meaning

Mes Belle Ondines

Mes Belles Ondines

 

I will begin this follow-up to my previous post with revisiting a definition of autopoiesis:

Planetary physiology is the autopoiesis of the cell writ large.

From Margulis and Sagan, What Is Life? (U. of California Press, 2000).

So the autopoiesis of self-production is a multi-layered process in which there are many different types of connections, depending on how and where we assign boundaries.  Do we see the aliveness beyond our own selves? Where our own boundaries of being are and who or what do they serve?  Two rhetorical questions which bring me to an examination of the nature of inquiry and the function of language . . . .

In the first chapter of Metaphor and Reality, Philip Wheelwright sets forth an equilateral triangle with the letters O (object), S (subject) and L (language) at each of the vertices, which he identifies as the “epistemological triad,” serving to illustrate the media of the formation of what might be called reality.  How we talk about reality, in terms of our participation in it, just as we participate in our own autopoiesis, is not simple to identify or describe when subject and object seem to change and the vertex for language is broad indeed.  How we come to describe this life each of us lives is no simple undertaking!

Further complicating this matter is looking at autopoiesis in the context of human consciousness, where autopoiesis is both a process as well as a presence, and the participation in our own autopoiesis is also participation in that of the autopoiesis of a larger context – a community, an organization or “the world” – which is constantly changing, evolving developing and if we acknowledge the evolutionary process of linear time,  this autopoiesis is constantly developing higher order structures.  This reminds me of Heraclitus’ observation – you can never step in the same river twice!

Sometimes we are invited to participate in something – before we know what it is or who it is that is being invited.  Often we are unfamiliar with the invitation and what it asks of us.  It is not known what it is – an event, a practice, a task, a knowing, an unknowing, a dance or simply play.  It seems that this participation is often like play, akin to a kind of music (which is older than language) that moves through us.  Makes me think of a previous blogpost about music, memory and dementia!

As with autopoiesis (and with the emptiness which is required for the process and which I described briefly in the previous post), within music and dance there are empty spaces, pauses, rests, hesitations – all of which serve to punctuate the content, organize the flow of expression and provide its beautiful uniqueness.  It strikes me that this is akin to the emptiness, the absence of something which the process of autopoiesis is dependent upon which I described in the previous post.  Sergius Bulgakov aptly noted:

      Creation is nothing that came to be.

In our autopoiesis, language is undoubtedly part of our creation, notwithstanding its essentially paradoxical nature of what and how “it” communicates, and which also means it can be revelatory and mysterious – just as it can be more literal and descriptive.

So back to my theme here about autopoiesis and that emptiness, which I would identify as the “longing” which keeps us moving through this life, in search of.   Perhaps here is an opportunity to look at two aspects of this longing, this quest of autopoiesis: for both knowledge and meaning.  Knowledge is defined by Google as: (1) facts, information, and skills acquired by a person through experience or education; the theoretical or practical understanding of a subject; and (2) awareness or familiarity gained by experience of a fact or situation.  This knowledge is essentially part of the world of the intellectual world, its academic nature is a collective and ongoing acquisition.  As such it is a community enterprise, one that builds upon shared connections and information and advances as a field.

Meaning, on the other hand, is not so easily defined for my purposes here. . .  Google’s definition offers this for the noun: what is meant by a word, text, concept, or action; and this for the adjective: intended to communicate something that is not directly expressed.  The root of meaning is from the German and the Indo-European root of the word is the same as that of mind, or the element of a person that enables them to be aware of the world and their experiences, to think, and to feel; the faculty of consciousness and thought.  Meaning, then, is the domain of the person and is necessarily constructed in relationship to the world and in particular to the world of experience.

These two aspects of knowledge (acquisition) and meaning (awareness) are connected and ought to be connected via autopoiesis although autopoiesis might not necessarily require the latter, but then I think of Nietzsche’s quote here: He who has a why to live can bear almost any how and would immediately reconsider that observation!  The connection between the two is manifold and one without the other is folly.  The more objective, spoken, literal and objective knowledge which is shared and makes so much of interpersonal communication possible is inherently rational and logical.  What often allows the understanding to be readily shared however,  is its rendering – which is that which means there is no life force within it and is devoid of that subjective quality of “spirit” in that it is an agreed upon construct.  Meaning is subjective and personal, it may come from the unspoken language of gesture, ritual or symbol, and it also arises from our human yearning for a language of understanding, of experience , for what lies beyond words, the emptiness required for autopoiesis.  “Significance” here is as unique as each one of us in any particular moment.

To come back to this clearing away, the emptiness of which is required in our  autopoiesis, I am reminded how the creating – or “allowing” is perhaps more appropriate – of empty space is essentially the maintaining of space for openness, possibility and creation of a new self.  If the stepping back and allowing for the creation sounds both like a process which is part of autopoiesis and also a spiritual practice, that is precisely the connection I make here.  The Jewish mystical term for this is known as “tzim tzum.”

Knowledge and meaning are entwined in meaningful ways and they need to be connected – otherwise the rational or logical knowledge is barren of any aliveness, spirit, or any significance beyond its desiccated literalness that can establish its connectedness with the rest of the person and with the human community and the autopoiesis of the world.  Stripped of any “need” for meaning or even any context for it, beyond the simple denial of any existence of meaning, we have what often appears in our present post-modern culture of death denial and questioning whether there is even any “need” for a meaning of life.  This form of “progress”” is an objective materialism that pervades our thinking about scientific “progress” and results in an intolerable reductionism, unless you are quite satisfied with that small black box of what might pass for “reality.”

©Barbara Cashman  2015   www.DenverElderLaw.org

The Grail Question Continued – What Ails Thee?

denver elder mediation

A Garden Near Assisi

 

[Note – this post was published on August 19, but it didn’t make it into my migration to a new server. . . ]

This post is a continuation of my previous post about elder and probate mediation and obstacle identification.  The first grail question I examined was “what ails thee?” and it is one which I would like to explore in depth a bit more in this post.  What I am looking at in particular in this post is the larger function of seeing that is implied in the question above.  What is it that we can see about another, understand about the other’s situation from seeing them and encountering them in a question such as this?

The question is simple and seemingly straightforward, but it certainly goes beyond the obvious and the superficial – but that begs the question.  What is seeing, what is our ability to use our eyes, our sightedness, to encounter another person – especially one in distress?  Sometimes, in this culture that distrusts anything that can’t be readily explained or measured or understood at some level, we mistake the act of using our eyes for the ability to see.  What I mean by using our eyes is the sensory act of using our eyes, as sensory inputs to inform our understanding of the world.  What often happens, on the “did you see that?” transactional level of human communication is the confusion of our visual sense of seeing for its sensory utility for its own sake, as if the sense was something generic, that anyone with eyes could see in the same manner.  If this sounds farfetched, I will use the example of biomechanics, a popular idea of how the human “machine” works.  Certainly, if we are all machines then our standard issue equipment functions in similar ways, right?  Well, I’m afraid this is the dead end of the reductionists, and I’ve never been tempted to travel down that path.

So this sense of seeing, or rather more appropriately – the use of the eyes for navigating our environment, often amounts to an act of seeing which serves only to separate us from each other and our world.  This is the seeing described above, that which is focused on the material, visible and the “objective” if you will.  This is what is normally understood as the typical and usual way of seeing in our everyday world.  But this is not so for all of us. There are other ways of seeing in addition to or beyond the use of the eyes.

Here I think of the late teacher, author and a leader of the French Resistance, Jacques Lusseyran and I thank Mark Patrick for telling me about his autobiography, And There Was Light.  Lusseyran was left without sight in either of his eyes as the result of an accident at school.  His autobiography tells the story of his work as a leader of the resistance in Paris, sought out because he was blind, as well as his time spent at Buchenwald.  For my purposes here, in the context of the first grail question, I am looking at his posthumously published work Against the Pollution of the I (2006: Morning Light Press).  In the chapter entitled “The Blind in Society” he writes: “Blindness has shown me a space other than the physical one, which only serves to separate me from them and them from me.  This is the space where the stirrings of the soul and the spirit come into being . . . Thanks to blindness I learned to read many signs that came to me from others, and that usually escape the notice of the seeing.”  Against the Pollution of the I, at 46-47.  I find this observation most refreshing in the way it challenges the superficial nature of seeing things and mistaking them for what they appear to be on the surface.  It also leads to a conclusion that many of us “sighted” persons are lazy in that we are accustomed to relying on our sight to inform us of certain things in a certain manner and we mistake this surface reality for “all there is.”

Lusseyran’s questioning of the conventional utility of the sense of sight goes further.  In another chapter entitled “Blindness, A New Seeing of the World,” he refers to sight as a very useful tool and those who are deprived of it as suffering a heavy loss.  But he looks at the senses in a holistic and integrating way, noting that the loss of one sense can allow for the development of another.  Than he makes another observation: “But now we are faced with a great difficulty, for seeing is a superficial sense.”  Id. At 54.  He astutely observes that while the eyes can help us immensely, we should not mistake the tool of seeing with the eyes for its utility alone.  He goes so far as to state that without a willingness to go beyond the superficiality of sight, the seeing beneath or beyond  the outer surface, no true cognition is possible because we are locked into insisting that the tool itself is the purpose of sight.  The beautiful metaphor he uses to illustrate this inadequacy of limiting sight and seeing to the act of visual collection of information is the act of naming, knowing and thereby seemingly knowing the unknowable because . . .  we have seen it.  He identifies this rightly as idol worship.  Id. At 59.

What is our sight, our willingness to see another?   What is our ability to know another person for?  It strikes me that a function of seeing must be, as Lusseyran observes, the ability to clear away the noise, debris and clutter from our minds so that we can truly think about who we see and what they mean to us.  “What ails thee?” can be a mirror for our own suffering and inadequacy to see ourselves reflected in another person.

There is more to us than our visible exterior, our “clay.”  The late John O’Donohue has written beautiful poetry which speaks about our clay.  Another writer has observed this about our clay:

. . .   we are shaped and molded by what we once were and what we will become.  As the ultimate spiritual treasure, the spark of knowledge that inspired human faith becomes an internalized knowledge that will erase temporal history and return us intact to the primordial self.

John Herlihy, “Profile of Unfinished Man” in Psychology and the Perennial Philosophy, at 122, Samuel B. Sotillos, ed. (2013: World Wisdom).

This examination of what constitutes “seeing” in the context of the first grail question just might be followed by a similar pondering of the second question. . . .

©Barbara Cashman  2015   www.DenverElderLaw.org

 

Funeral planning, disposition of remains and the importance of “The Conversation”

centennial probate lawyer

Italian Marble

Last Sunday I presented to a lively and engaged group at a local church on the topic of health care self-determination.  This post is a bit of a follow-up to that conversation on the enduring topic that “it is never too soon to have ‘The Conversation.’”  The best approach to getting these matters in order is to have a conversation with loved ones about wishes, which are then solidified by the documentation.  The documents are often meaningless if people don’t know of their existence or the context for the expressed wishes!

These topics seem relatively straightforward, right?  Well, I got the idea for writing this post initially as a result of a discussion that took place on one of my listserves.  It is one of those situations where “the law” and how things work out there in the outside world don’t quite sync.  The question concerned a situation in which decedent stated her wishes to her child that she wanted to be cremated, but the mortuary told adult child that, without anything in writing from the decedent stating her wish to be cremated, they would need to contact and get approval from decedent’s other children to get their joint approval for cremation.  It would seem that the funeral director wanted to follow the old law “next of kin” even though there was a statute in place that covered this issue. . . .  There was a good discussion about this topic and so I thought it was worth writing about.

Defining Death

       You might think this is a straightforward proposition, but it is not, as I have blogged about previously in a post about “brain death.”  The only legal and medical definition of death in our country came about as a result of a uniform law – the Uniform Declaration of Death Act (UDDA).  It was drafted in 1981 by a President’s Commission to study brain death and was approved by both the American Medical Association (AMA) and the American Bar Association (ABA) shortly after its publication.   The UDDA offers two definitions for a legal declaration of death: (1) the irreversible cessation of circulatory and respiratory functions; or (2) the irreversible cessation of all functions of the entire brain, including the brain stem.   The most common type of death is the first one and you can see how the second definition courts controversy, especially given advances in neuroscience and further advances in measuring the occurrence and quality of brain activity.  States have adopted the UDDA, many with their own adaptations of the second definition.  In Colorado, C.R.S. § 12-36-136 provides:

(1) An individual is dead if:

(a) He has sustained irreversible cessation of circulatory and respiratory functions; or

(b) He has sustained irreversible cessation of all functions of the entire brain,

including the brain stem.

(2) A determination of death under this section shall be in accordance with accepted

medical standards.

Death in Colorado encompasses the entire brain, not simply some aspect of brain function.  But the treatment of brain death is inconsistent and some argue that the neocortical death (part of the brain believed to contribute to consciousness) is more appropriate than “whole brain” death and  may better address neurodegenerative disorders that can lead to steep functional decline, particularly in the elderly.  This is an evolving determination, as addressed in (2) above “accepted medical standards.”

So once someone is dead, there is the question of what happens with the body, this is where the Disposition of Last Remains can be helpful information.  The declaration of last remains, addressed in our statutes at Colo. Rev. Stat. §15-19-103 et seq., covers several aspects of the disposition of a corpse.  The context for the statute does in some important aspects address the three major historical funerary customs in our country: (1) the rituals performed for a dead person, which can include a visitation or wake; (2) a funeral or memorial service; and (3) the burial service or inurnment.  No, cryogenic preservation is not covered in the tradition surrounding death and disposition of a body, nor is biological continuity – but assistive reproductive technology legislation covers several aspects of what we might leave behind and in Colorado at least, has room for growth.

The statute contains a form for the declaration of disposition of last remains at C.R.S. 15-19-107, and it includes some very important choices, including:  burial, cremation, entombment or “other;” a disposition as determined by a named designee; and requests concerning a funeral, memorial service and other special instructions.

A disposition of last remains often contains a variety of information and this often includes “Anatomical Gifts.”  These gifts are the primary reasons that we have any law at all that defines death – so as to enable organ donation.  This is why “brain death” is called such and why it still remains controversial in many respects.  In the advance directive form I use, there is a clause concerning anatomical gifts.  Many Colorado residents have selected the option of signing up as an organ donor with the Department of Motor Vehicles (a division of the Department of Revenue), and these folks are identified with a small red heart with an embedded “Y” on the lower right corner of the front of the license or identification card.

So what about the interface of the Disposition of Last Remains with the Medical Durable Power of Attorney (MDPOA)?

The MDPOA statute is found at Colo. Rev. Stat. § 15-14-506, and subsection 3 states:

An agent appointed in a medical durable power of attorney may provide informed consent to or refusal of medical treatment on behalf of a principal who lacks decisional capacity and shall have the same power to make medical treatment decisions the principal would have if the principal did not lack such decisional capacity.

An MDPOA may also contain a statement of wishes or give the authority to the agent, after the principal’s death, to make a determination of disposition of last remains of the principal.  This is so because an MDPOA is a “declaration” as defined by C.R.S. §15-19-103.  This is a long post, thanks for reading and until next week . . .

©Barbara Cashman  2015   www.DenverElderLaw.org

More Adventures of the Psychopomp

Wheel from Assisi Church

Wheel from Assisi Church

In a previous post this past January, I wrote about a term, an “office” to be more exact, about which very few of us in this post-modern world know.  The psychopomp is the guide to the “other side” so to speak.  The guide, or lack thereof in our post-modern existence, speaks to an unmet need for some ritual, some meaning-making around the end of life.

So now a bit about Mercurius, a/k/a Hermes, the trickster who is also messenger and guide of souls.  For Carl Jung, Mercurius as guide to “the underworld” meant that he was more akin to the god of the unconscious.  Mercurius is also bringer of news, transformation and other processes including healing and Mercurius does not fight with the other gods of the Greek and Roman pantheon but strives to make sense and meaning of them – which seems to be why Jung’s term synchronicity for meaningful and symbolic coincidences seem to evidence the hand of Mercurius.

But the path is difficult, narrow and often disappears or involves a painful transformation.  Is there something that is the end result of this transformative process? Why yes, there are of course several answers to this, but the integration, the longed-for unity of the adept is that of integrity, that is revealed in its timeless form and no longer subject to change or destruction.  This is symbolized by the lily, a magical flower.  The white lily is emblematic of the primordial goddess from antiquity, has a number of references in the Hebrew Bible and is also depicted in Christian art in paintings of the annunciation as well as Saint Catherine of Siena, for example.

What the ancient alchemists referred to as “alchemical mercury” was a volatile liquid, mainly alcohol, which carried the life force of a fermented plant.  In the process of fermentation, the plant dies and disintegrates, and “gives up the ghost” of its life force to the volatile liquid.  And yes, if you’re wondering  . . .this is where the term “spirits” as in wine and spirits sold at a liquor store – has its origin!

There are references to the psychopomp in the animal world as well.  In art it is often depicted as a deer, whose caution and grace, along with its sudden and unpredictable appearance and disappearance link the animal to Mercurius. The deer, like the transformative intermediary and rather slippery character is often a symbol of the twisting and turning path of transformation or of pilgrimage and the “now you see it, now you don’t” nature of such a course.  Indeed Rainer Maria Rilke wrote about this in “The Book of a Monastic Life,” this from The Book of Hours, with beautiful translation and commentary by Anita Barrows and Joanna Macy and available from Riverhead Press:

You come and go. The doors swing closed ever more gently, almost without a shudder. Of all those who move through the quiet houses, you are the quietest. 

We become so accustomed to you, we no longer look up when your shadow falls over the book we are reading and makes it glow. For all things sing you: at times we just hear them more clearly.  

Often when I imagine you your wholeness cascades into many shapes. You run like a herd of luminous deer and I am dark, I am forest.  

You are a wheel at which I stand, whose dark spokes sometimes catch me up, revolve me nearer to the center. Then all the work I put my hand to widens from turn to turn. 

                Rilke, The Book of Hours, (A. Barrows and J. Macy, transl), l. 45 at 105 (1996).

 

So now that I’ve mentioned alchemy, Mercurius and  Rilke, how can I tie these thread together in the hope of making any sense out of this psychopomp foray?!  Well, that remains to be seen. . . but I will close with an observation and link about the importance of people being with one another as one is dying, for this being with the dying is transformative for the person doing the dying as well as the other person who is part of the relationship.  I recently came across an excellent video entitled “Beginning with the End” – a documentary featured in SXSW. Here’s the trailer.  It’s about teaching young persons about the dying process, as experienced by people whose lives and experiences are shared in relationship. Blue Sky has a longer explanation of the documentary here.

Here’s the overview: Emma and Ernie ate lemon meringue pie together. Ernie taught Emma about life. And Emma helped Ernie to die. In 2002, a high school teacher in Rochester, NY, invited nine high school seniors to attend his new class. The name of the class: Hospice. A decade later, the program continues with student volunteers learning about and providing comfort care for the dying and their families. The film follows the real-life stories of four student volunteers through their senior year. In the quest to understand “the big sleep,” they find a whole new kind of awakening.

What does the involvement of young people caring for the dying involve?  A new language of connection? Most certainly.  As one of the students remarked . . . it’s not about death, it’s about life.  Life’s connections among the living.  Touch, human touch.  Oh yes, and transformation of each of us.

That’s all for now.

©Barbara Cashman  2015   www.DenverElderLaw.org