weaken until I have no strength or control over my body. I have to let go of bodily elements – muscle, sex, eyes, mouth. I know that I am made from the elements of the earth and am dissolving back into earth. I need to go with the flow.
2. WATER AND LOSS OF CONTROL OF BODILY FLUIDS
In my mother’s womb I was floating in liquid and had no control over this. Now, once again, it is like that. Perhaps I dribble or am incontinent, yet my eyes are so dry. I need to go with the flow.
3. FIRE AND THE DRYING UP OF BODILY PARTS
Not only my eyes now, but also my mouth and nose are dried up. My brain also seems to sink. Memories blur. Maybe I cannot recognize loved ones. Maybe I call out to my mother, not realizing that she left this earth long ago. It feels like being in the middle of a fire. I am being consumed. I need to allow this to happen.
4. AIR AND THE DISSOLUTION OF CONSCIOUSNESS
It is harder to breathe, to think. The gap between this life and the next is now very thin. I rasp and pant. My intellect disintegrates. Everything is a blur. I hallucinate. I may be terrified, or, if I am close to God, I may see saints, angels or beautiful scenes.
Now the physical elements are dissolving into ‘trans-body’ consciousness. Breathing ceases. I am declared ‘dead’.
Sometimes, during a holiday or a free day, it is good to walk in a quiet place or along a cemetery path and recite prayers that will help you along your final journey on earth. If they become part of you now, they will be a strength to you then.
Alistair Maclean, in his book Hebridean Altars, recalls how the Hebridean islanders used to go singing through the valley:
When Thou shalt close this mouth of mine,
Mine heart lose power to sob,
When my breath shall cease to rattle,
When my pain shall cease to throb,
Then relieve me, and receive me,
And conduct my soul to God. 9
He records three other prayers of Hebridean islanders, the first that of an old farmer on the island of Coll.
Be with me and for me, dear Lord,
as I walk upon the road of brightness
that runs between earth and Thy glory.
Saviour and Friend, how wonderful art Thou,
My companion upon the changeful way,
The comforter of its weariness,
My guide to the Eternal Town,
The welcome at its gate.
O Holy Christ, bless me with your presence when my days are drear.
Bless me with your presence when my joy is full.
Bless me with your presence when I reach my end.
Help me in the darkness to find the ford.
Why not make up your own prayers on these themes? Michael Halliwell, from Jersey, wrote this prayer:
Lord of the sunrise, source and ground of my being,
you know me in my mother’s womb.
As my first day begins, heal me of the pain and hurt I receive.
Lord of the dawn, you see me grow strong as I learn to walk and talk,
heal me of tears of separation and loss.
Lord of the high noon, you accompany me along life’s journey,
guide me in choice and strengthen me in adversity.
Lord of the dusk, as my life declines,
help me to surrender all that I have and all that I am into your hand.
Lord of the sunset, as I go to my eternal home,
strengthen me on my last journey with you,
that I may entrust my soul into your hands in faith and hope.
Not one cell of our bodies is built to last for ever. We are designed to grow out of each stage of our life on earth. Being born, growing up, maturing, ageing and dying are all part of a natural process. If we cooperate with this process throughout our lives, we are more likely to co-operate with it at our end.
Cosmetic surgery can disguise or delay our ageing for a short time only. Deep-freezing our bodies at or near death merely delays the inevitable, and stores up future discontinuities.
We co-operate when we accept what is happening to our bodies: we can no longer play football; the menopause arrives; wrinkles appear; hairs go grey; teeth fall out; we need others to assist us.
To co-operate also means that we stop pretending to be what we are not. Why pretend to be a spring chicken if we are in fact a golden oldie? We can still aim to be our best. If we are an oldie, we can aim to be a glorious golden oldie. We can aim to grow old gracefully.
Full tide, ebb tideLet life’s rhythms flowEbb tide, full tideHow life’s beat must go. DAVID ADAM10
The ebb tide might be a setback or a disappointment. It might be a low biorhythm or a seasonal disorder. It might be exhaustion or depression after a prolonged period of activity.
By learning to go with the ebb tide, we learn also to go with the incoming tide. There is a time to rest and a time to act. If we fail to practise this rhythm, we fail to become renewed. We become like an overused machine which is fit only for the scrapheap.
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