Reunion With Mother Nature

I’ve reached an age where my own death looms as a real possibility. The Hospice volunteer training that I did had something to do with it. We talked about how helpful and useful it is to the family if you make your end-of-life plans ahead of time. And write them down.

For me, death is when that part of me which is nature returns to the Mother and that part which is spirit returns to the Father. Each deserves consideration. I spend time daily meditating, praying, and serving to prepare for my union with the Father. Yet how would the Mother most like to receive me? How do I prepare for physical reunion with Mother Nature? How might my body be of service to the ecosystem?

Definitely not embalmed and in a sealed metal box. This was designed to keep the body from Her – to avoid that final dissolution of the “me” with which we each have so long identified.—to deter decay, which is, in fact, the process of becoming one again with the Mother Earth.

For some time I’ve thought cremation might be my way, burning it all up. I envisioned my ashes later being sent up into the night sky with fireworks and exploding into one final exciting orgasm of light. Sent off with the “oohs” and “ahhs”. But now that seems a great waste of my nutrients—just burning them. Spectacular, yes. But why not pass on what I have in the form of physical nourishment to other living beings instead of wasting it?

Once I read a novel which told of necrophagia as a spiritual practice. They would respectfully eat the dead, to take their beloved’s physical self into their continuing bodies, to literally carry them with them in their very own cells. This might not go over with my dear ones. And I’m not sure how I could arrange it. Could I find a butcher willing to be prepaid to quickly skin and chop my flesh into eatable cuts? I think I’d like to be stewed with lots of vegetables and spices.

The Native American tradition of placing the body on an open, wooden platform, out in nature, leaving the dead to the elements and scavenging birds appeals to my airy nature. But this probably wouldn’t fit in with the health codes. And I’m sure that there would be objections from some of the neighbors, if not my husband, with the public display of my bones being pecked clean.

Maybe the waters could claim me, with a burial at sea. I love the ocean and the creatures swimming in that world. Snorkeling has been a great pleasure for me. So maybe I could be dropped off the side of a boat, wrapped in a simple silk cloth and go under to feed the fishies. But I’m living in landlocked Colorado.

So going back to Mother Earth may be about feeding bacteria in the earth to enrich the land Herself, putting my bare body into the ground and covering it with dirt. Would this be too brutal for my beloveds? I’d like a tree planted on my grave—maybe a peach tree. That would bring me into full juiciness and sweetness in their memories and their mouths.

Death is so full of questions.