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