Life and incense

Yesterday, as I was driving to work, one of my favourite songs came on. It is hard to describe the feeling it created instantly – intense joy and sadness all at once, mixed in with a lot of nostalgia. I wanted to laugh and cry and sing along all at the same time, which meant I was mostly blubbering. In the afternoon I had to go and give my mother something. As I walked in and hugged her, I was enveloped by the beautiful smell of Aromatics – her favourite perfume of all time. My whole life flashed before my eyes - not really/just the events, but the feelings. I was comforted. Every fibre of my being felt home.

This got me to thinking - surprise, surprise ;) - about how unbelievably apt the Bible is when saying that our lives must be as a pleasant perfume to those around us. Nothing on earth can connect us more closely to our innermost being, to those “hiding places” where so much of ourselves disappear to, than the smells and the music in our lives, for they are hard-coded into every cell of our body. They become just as much a part of us as our hair

colour - which allows those very instant and intense whole-body experiences when we are confronted with them.

Of course, these associations can be happy or sad, or both at the same time. But, even when it is sadness that overwhelms us, there is still an almost indescribable beauty in the feeling of it. A beauty that can never be fully captured in only talking about it. It is your whole being come alive...set alight...

And this is the effect that our presence should have on the people in our lives. Our being who we are in Christ and our being there should envelop people. Should create in them the same experience as when a favourite song suddenly plays, or a favourite smell unexpectedly wafts in from somewhere. Our presence a whole-body reminder that they are home because they are in God's love.

What a privilege would that not be? Definitely something worth striving for every day of this year. May our lives evermore become the pleasant perfume they were meant to be. May our words become that sentimental song. For then, our lives will have been worth it. "May the words I say and the things I do make my lifesong sing...bring a smile to You. I want to sign Your name to the end of this day, knowing that my heart was true." - Casting Crowns

Death and dignity

If you know me at all…no wait, scratch that…you don’t really have to know me in the slightest to know that I am a MASSIVE (in this case literally and figuratively  ) fan of Terry Pratchett. So of course I follow his Facebook page. And yesterday they advertised an auction for a dinner with the man himself, with all funds raised in this way going to support “Dignity in Dying”. Now, notwithstanding the fact that I would sell all my possessions and organs (as well as anybody’s that I have ever known) to be the one to have dinner with Terry, it also got me thinking. “Dignity in dying” is not exactly one of those causes you can use to win Miss Universe – it’s too depressing. But, knowing that Terry Pratchett was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s a few years ago, I can see how this would become a cause worth investing in. Funny how priorities change as life takes its turns with us.

Which got me to thinking about “dignity” and “dying”, and about how these two can (and should/would?) go together. For “dignity” can sound like such a very passive, stiff-upper-lip kind of thing…so “dignity in dying” can sound so much like giving up, giving over, hanging around – in a dignified manner, mind – until your time is done. And yet, one of my favourite poems (anthems?) by Dylan Thomas tells us: “Do not go gentle into that good night, old age should burn and rave at close of day; rage, rage against the dying of the light”. So how do we reconcile these two seemingly very different understandings? Can we? Should we?

Living = surrounding yourself

For that I think the answer is not in the dying, but in the living of it all. Of course, in those last moments of our lives, we will all wonder about one or two things when looking back upon our journey. The trick, I think, is how much there is to wonder about – in my experiences with death and dying, the most fear and desperation are felt by those who realise that they have waited too long with most everything. Who know, in that final moment, that too much has gone unsaid, undone, unthought. Is that the same as saying that to live to the full – to get to an end with mostly peace – is to rage and burn and rave all our desires to the full? No matter who or what you leave in your wake? Or in what condition? Since it is only you on your own in those dying moments?

And then “dignity” clicked for me – for to live a dignified live is not to live a life without passion and fire, but always living it with the knowledge that you are not the only person being affected by your journey. So, when talking about dignity in death, I think it’s more about the people you leave behind and how they are left. And the balance – that very precarious and flighty thing – is to be found in exactly “dignity in dying”…for then we are living our lives and our passions to the full, realising that we only have so much time in which to do all we desire; but to also do it in such a way that those around us are inspired, are ignited by our passion to find and follow their own, are strengthened by our lives and our journeys. When we manage that, our life, our death, will be something to mostly smile about…something that pushes people onward and upward…something to be proud of.