Showing unconditional love
By Sogyal Rinpoche
From The
Tibetan Book of Living and Dying (pages 176-177)
Reproduced with kind permission of
Harper
San Francisco
Often we forget that the dying are losing their whole
world: their house, their job, their relationships, their
body, and their mind--they're losing everything. All the
losses we could possibly experience in life are joined
together in one overwhelming loss when we die, so
how could anyone dying not be sometimes sad,
sometimes panicked, sometimes angry?
Elisabeth Kübler-Ross suggests five stages in the
process of coming to terms with dying: denial, anger,
bargaining, depression, and acceptance. Of course not
everyone will go through all these stages, or necessarily
in this order; and for some people the road to acceptance
may be an extremely long and thorny one; others may not
reach acceptance at all.
Ours is a culture that does not give
people very much true perspective on their thoughts,
emotions, and experiences, and many people facing
death and its final challenge find themselves feeling
cheated by their own ignorance, and terribly frustrated
and angry, especially since no one seems to want to
comprehend them and their most heartfelt needs.
As Cicely Saunders, the great pioneer of the hospice
movement in Britain, writes: "I once asked a man who
knew he was dying what he needed above all in those
who were caring for him. He said, 'For someone to look
as if they are trying to understand me.' Indeed, it is
impossible to understand fully another person, but I
never forgot that he did not ask for success but only that
someone should care enough to try."
1
It is essential that we care enough to try, and that we
reassure that person that whatever he or she may be
feeling, whatever his or her frustration and anger, it is
normal. Dying will bring out many repressed emotions:
sadness or numbness or guilt, or even jealousy of those
who are still well. Help the person not to repress these
emotions when they rise. Be with the person as the
waves of pain and grief break; with acceptance, time,
and patient understanding, the emotions slowly
subside and return the dying person to that ground of
serenity, calm, and sanity that is most deeply and truly
theirs.
Don't try to be too wise; don't always try to search for
something profound to say. You don't have to do or say
anything to make things better. Just be there as fully as
you can. And if you are feeling a lot of anxiety and fear,
and don't know what to do, admit that openly to the
dying person and ask his or her help. This honesty will
bring you and the dying person closer together, and
help in opening up a freer communication. Sometimes
the dying know far better than we how they can be
helped, and we need to know how to draw on their
wisdom and let them give to us what they know.
Cicely Saunders has asked us to remind ourselves that, in
being with the dying, we are not the only givers.
"Sooner or later all who work with dying people know
they are receiving more than they are giving as they
meet endurance, courage and often humor. We need to
say so..."2 Acknowledging
our recognition of their courage can often inspire
the dying person.
I find too that I have been helped by remembering one
thing: that the person in front of me dying is always,
somewhere, inherently good. Whatever rage or emotion
arises, however momentarily shocking or horrifying
these may be, focusing on that inner goodness will give
you the control and perspective you need to be as
helpful as possible. Just as when you quarrel with a
good friend, you do not forget the best parts of that
person, do the same with the dying person: Don't judge
them by whatever emotions arise. This acceptance of
yours will release the dying person to be as uninhibited
as he or she needs to be. Treat the dying as if they were
what they are sometimes capable of being: open, loving,
and generous.
On a deeper, spiritual level, I find it extremely helpful
always to remember the dying person has the true
buddha nature, whether he or she realizes it or not, and
the potential for complete enlightenment. As the dying
come closer to death, this possibility is in many ways
even greater. So they deserve even more care and
respect.
1. Dame Cicely Saunders, "I Was Sick and You Visited Me,"
Christian Nurse International, 3, no. 4 (1987).
2. Dame Cicely Saunders, "Spiritual Pain," a paper
presented at St. Christopher's Hospice Fourth International
Conference, London 1987, published in Hospital Chaplain (March 1988).