Most of the time when I’m writing a blog post, I’m sitting at my desk in my cheerful office in Berkeley, California overlooking a large camphor tree. Today I’m sitting on a couch in my aunt’s apartment in New York City, writing on and off between short visits with her, as she lies dying in her own bedroom, being cared for by hospice workers, caregivers, and family members. A while back she told me that this is what she wanted—that she never wanted to live in an assisted living facility or a nursing home—and she has been able to get her wish. But that only happened because when her doctor told her it was time to discuss end of life options, she was open to hearing that and willing to discuss the possibilities. That’s also true of her daughter, my cousin, who—despite her sadness over the impending loss of her dear, dear mother—has been able to face the situation with clear eyes, and admit that to herself that her mother is indeed dying and that hospice with comfort care is the way to go. So my cousin is now able to provide her mother with what she explicitly requested, and to make adjustments on an as-needed basis by discussing them honestly with her mother. A true act of love.I’ve written about the importance of facing our mortality a couple of times before, in my post Meeting Death at the Front Door and Welcome to Your Mortality. I said then that encouraging people to face their own mortality (and the mortality of their loved ones), helps us cultivate satya (truthfulness) in the face of abhinivesah (fear of death/clinging to life). But now that I’m seeing it in action again, I felt like it might be good to bring it up once more. Before I got started writing, however, I decided to check with my cousin to see whether it was all right with her for me to write about her and my aunt. She not only said, “Of course!” but she added, “I think it’s really important to discuss this. Not only within our family, as we have been doing, but with all our friends as well. Because so many people get involved in a kind of magical thinking that ends up backfiring on them in the end, and it just makes everything worse.” So even in the midst of our sadness, she encouraged me to write this post, to let people know how beneficial it is to be honest and straightforward about death, both for the person who themselves who is dying, for the people who are caring for the dying person, and for all the people who love them. Subscribe to Yoga for Healthy Aging by Email ° Follow Yoga for Healthy Aging on Facebook ° Join this site with Google Friend Connect
Fitness Magazine
by Nina
Most of the time when I’m writing a blog post, I’m sitting at my desk in my cheerful office in Berkeley, California overlooking a large camphor tree. Today I’m sitting on a couch in my aunt’s apartment in New York City, writing on and off between short visits with her, as she lies dying in her own bedroom, being cared for by hospice workers, caregivers, and family members. A while back she told me that this is what she wanted—that she never wanted to live in an assisted living facility or a nursing home—and she has been able to get her wish. But that only happened because when her doctor told her it was time to discuss end of life options, she was open to hearing that and willing to discuss the possibilities. That’s also true of her daughter, my cousin, who—despite her sadness over the impending loss of her dear, dear mother—has been able to face the situation with clear eyes, and admit that to herself that her mother is indeed dying and that hospice with comfort care is the way to go. So my cousin is now able to provide her mother with what she explicitly requested, and to make adjustments on an as-needed basis by discussing them honestly with her mother. A true act of love.I’ve written about the importance of facing our mortality a couple of times before, in my post Meeting Death at the Front Door and Welcome to Your Mortality. I said then that encouraging people to face their own mortality (and the mortality of their loved ones), helps us cultivate satya (truthfulness) in the face of abhinivesah (fear of death/clinging to life). But now that I’m seeing it in action again, I felt like it might be good to bring it up once more. Before I got started writing, however, I decided to check with my cousin to see whether it was all right with her for me to write about her and my aunt. She not only said, “Of course!” but she added, “I think it’s really important to discuss this. Not only within our family, as we have been doing, but with all our friends as well. Because so many people get involved in a kind of magical thinking that ends up backfiring on them in the end, and it just makes everything worse.” So even in the midst of our sadness, she encouraged me to write this post, to let people know how beneficial it is to be honest and straightforward about death, both for the person who themselves who is dying, for the people who are caring for the dying person, and for all the people who love them. Subscribe to Yoga for Healthy Aging by Email ° Follow Yoga for Healthy Aging on Facebook ° Join this site with Google Friend Connect
Most of the time when I’m writing a blog post, I’m sitting at my desk in my cheerful office in Berkeley, California overlooking a large camphor tree. Today I’m sitting on a couch in my aunt’s apartment in New York City, writing on and off between short visits with her, as she lies dying in her own bedroom, being cared for by hospice workers, caregivers, and family members. A while back she told me that this is what she wanted—that she never wanted to live in an assisted living facility or a nursing home—and she has been able to get her wish. But that only happened because when her doctor told her it was time to discuss end of life options, she was open to hearing that and willing to discuss the possibilities. That’s also true of her daughter, my cousin, who—despite her sadness over the impending loss of her dear, dear mother—has been able to face the situation with clear eyes, and admit that to herself that her mother is indeed dying and that hospice with comfort care is the way to go. So my cousin is now able to provide her mother with what she explicitly requested, and to make adjustments on an as-needed basis by discussing them honestly with her mother. A true act of love.I’ve written about the importance of facing our mortality a couple of times before, in my post Meeting Death at the Front Door and Welcome to Your Mortality. I said then that encouraging people to face their own mortality (and the mortality of their loved ones), helps us cultivate satya (truthfulness) in the face of abhinivesah (fear of death/clinging to life). But now that I’m seeing it in action again, I felt like it might be good to bring it up once more. Before I got started writing, however, I decided to check with my cousin to see whether it was all right with her for me to write about her and my aunt. She not only said, “Of course!” but she added, “I think it’s really important to discuss this. Not only within our family, as we have been doing, but with all our friends as well. Because so many people get involved in a kind of magical thinking that ends up backfiring on them in the end, and it just makes everything worse.” So even in the midst of our sadness, she encouraged me to write this post, to let people know how beneficial it is to be honest and straightforward about death, both for the person who themselves who is dying, for the people who are caring for the dying person, and for all the people who love them. Subscribe to Yoga for Healthy Aging by Email ° Follow Yoga for Healthy Aging on Facebook ° Join this site with Google Friend Connect
