Fearless Dying

Death has become impossible to ignore. Three close relatives, two friends, the spouse of an old friend–all gone before their time just this year.

The Persian poet Rumi said “Don’t worry old earth, you’ll get your sweet morsel soon.” He was fearless about dying, and tried to give his followers comfort by letting them know there was nothing to fear. In the three years I spent writing The Rumi Secret, my deep immersion in Rumi changed me. I lost my fear of death, and later became convinced that there is something beautiful on the other side of it. This is not a belief, not a dogma, but a knowing that is beyond a need for intellectual justification.

Some will find this fanciful wish-fulfillment. At the other end of the continuum, some will hear this as a vote for their own belief system. For me it is something else–a kind of grace–amazing grace–an inner knowing, inner peace. I’m in no hurry to leave this beautiful/terrible/unfathomable world, but when I must, I expect to go without fear. I am passionately attached to those I love, and I have not yet learned how to come to terms with the prospect of interrupting those connections. I trust that I will learn that profound lesson in due course.

Meanwhile, I live in an ocean of gratitude for too many gifts–joy, hope, love, laughter and music, music, music. I must not give the false impression that I am too evolved for anxiety, anger, moodiness, selfishness, or the ability to make still another foolish error in judgement. I regret to report that I am not above any of those emotions and states, not even above an occasional and ludicrous attachment to having my own way, no matter what.

And yet–and yet–I am profoundly grateful for it all!

And here is my gift to all who read this. Actually, it’s Rumi’s gift– his words:

Inside, you are sweet beyond telling.

There is a sun in everyone.

I become a mirror which cannot close its eyes

to your longing.

My eyes wet with yours in the morning light.

My mind always giving birth, always conceiving,

always in the 9th month.

And then an empty sky full of homage and praise.

And everything is soul and flowering.

Everything is soul and flowering.