Tag: M. Scott Peck

Life in Death Situation

A timely reminder to leave no hug un-hugged! Squeeze a little harder for a few seconds longer…

The precarious nature of our existence is never clearer than in the face of death.

If mistakes are life’s pencil sharpener, then death smacks of ridiculous frickin clarity, that is if you are paying proper attention. As with all life events innately designed to have you on your ass buried in the weeds, death attached to someone with whom you share the same DNA is the international champion of such events.

The prize, a gold-plated shovel necessary to dig the hole to wallow-dom. Welcome to the club for you have arrived.

I was 24 years old when my father died unexpectedly. Before my head stopped spinning, I had pitched a tent in wallow-dom. Second guessing took the first of many prizes pacing neck in neck with what if’s.

If the club had a secret handshake, I mastered it with my eyes closed.

woman walking on road at night
Photo by Lucas Pezeta on Pexels.com

Resources were scarce, and compassionate knowing nonexistent in my cavalier life that just delivered my first real job and bills to pay. In the 80’s people whispered cancer in fear of being discovered so facing death was best done alone. No RIP social media posts granting space for hashtag empathy.

Deal and move on please, you are blocking the entrance!

Through her bionic wisdom, capable of scaling mountains, climbing down deep holes and crossing oceans, my mother delivered something that helped me pack up my tent and leave wallow-dom – M. Scott Peck’s, The Road Less Traveled. Beautifully tattered and yellowed after 35 years as a reference, it is a timeless must read for those seeking a deeper meaning in life.

The Road Less Traveled

I read this book two separate times, 23 years apart. I derived separate and significant insights each time. Like a fine wine, the message aged well and spoke more broadly to me and the areas of my life that time had tested.

Immediately after my father’s death, one of my many answerless questions… Does the pain of death perpetuate death (physically or spiritually) or life? Page 133, delivered my answer. This is a glimpse of why Peck’s book has sold over seven million copies and why it is clearly, a life in death situation:

“If we can live with the knowledge that death is our constant companion, traveling on our left shoulder, then death becomes our ally and a source of wise counsel. With death’s counsel, the constant awareness of the limit of our time to live and love, we can always be guided to make the best use of our time and live life to the fullest. But if we are unwilling to fully face the fearsome presence of death on our left shoulder, we deprive ourselves of its counsel and cannot possibly live or love with clarity. When we shy away from death, the ever-changing nature of things, we inevitably shy away from life.”

Can I get a mic drop please?

Even today, these words produce goose bumps and make my heart race. What a gift! They made me feel lucky to have lived and survived a death of such significance in my young life. What a blessing, always ‘traveling on my left shoulder.’ Death’s presence perpetuates life, love, honesty, openness, expression, and the values inherent within them.

No room for complacent wimps.

Next in line, please step to the front.

Breaking Bread with Dead People

When you think of the commonalities you share with another person, what comes to mind? Most likely, things like interests, hobbies and passions.

Can we bridge the gap in areas of emotional distress? Why can’t we talk about death or tragedy without people feeling sorry for us or reluctant to welcome a difficult conversation?

Common tragedies bring people together from a sense of knowing. Compassion, empathy and patience are automatic.

The more we talk, the more we gather, the more we grow.

I would be remiss without referencing the inspirational, M. Scott Peck’s poignant words from The Road Less Traveled,  “…we must live with the knowledge that death is our constant companion traveling on our left shoulder.” Important words for the future whether you have lived through a significant death or not.

I originally wrote this in the summer of 2021 after lunch with two former high school classmates. I was so troubled and moved by their shared tragedy, I went home to write this for them.

Sadly, in the time since that day, there are other friends who, tragically and with great despair, have reluctantly joined the club.

This is for anyone who has lost a child.

I recently shared a meal with some high school mates among whom time and distance has put a few decades of space between. Life happens and so does death. How did we move from the bleachers of our high school gym to a table in a restaurant discussing the death of each of their sons?

Catching up on our years since takes a vastly different direction when one has lost a child. I only know this from afar because not only have I never lost a child, I do not have one to lose. In the reminiscent realm of these gatherings, ‘yea, me too’ is not something one might consider hoping to share.

I do know death intimately, though. We are old acquaintances. I have felt the air sucking deflation of every ounce of purpose and faith.  When I met death, disguised as hope and a glimmering light, it felt like falling off a cliff waiting for the bone crushing end that continued in perpetuity.

A bone crushing crash that never ends. Yes, can you imagine?

This is a path where second guessing intersects why me. A winding path full of questions that offer no answers and ends in a place where the entrance to the club requires a secret handshake.

They know the nature of fragility. They met at a dead end road.

They remain in turmoil while they stumble towards peace. They seem to rationalize the absence but not the loss.

How does one even reconcile the loss of a child?

How does one not say, ‘God should have taken me?’

They have asked those questions but find no answers. They choose to live despite them. They know time fleets, wanes and is a gift wrapped in a constantly unraveling bow. 

As an empathetic spectator, it moved me to witness the grace with which they each shared their grief and pain, and ultimate compassion for the other’s loss. A sense of knowing that doesn’t emerge until you walk in another’s shoes.

Interestingly, they both attended the Catholic elementary school together but admittedly struggled finding solace in their faith. I imagine a loss so great cannot be reconciled in any form intended to comfort.

It is there that we break bread with dead people. Where shared tragedy bridges decades long gaps instantly exchanging what truly matters, for what truly does not. Tomorrow isn’t what it will be without yesterday. Forward our only choice.

My old acquaintance taught me this, and apparently, it taught my friends the same.

Perhaps, this club is not for everyone. It requires great strength, resilience and fortitude to enter and stay, but true unwavering perseverance to leave, to seek and find peace, to hope and breathe again, and ultimately, to find the parachute’s cord before the bone crushing end.

If you know someone who has lost a child, meet them at the dead end road. Welcome a difficult conversation. Check in, be present, listen and support.

If you are the surviving parent, keep them close. Live within, through and beyond their absence and loss, ‘always traveling on your left shoulder.’

Peace and love for a memorable, reflective and joyous Thanksgiving to all.

Life in Death Situation

The author shares their experience with death when their father passed away unexpectedly at the age of 24. This led to self-questioning and emotional struggling, referred to as ‘wallow-dom’. In dealing with this grief, the author found solace in M. Scott Peck’s book, ‘The Road Less Traveled’. The book’s message about the presence of death, as an ally and counselor, helped the author embrace life more fully, drawing explicit connections between death, life, love, honesty, and expression.

The precarious nature of our existence is never clearer than in the face of death. If mistakes are life’s pencil sharpener, then death smacks of ridiculous frickin clarity, that is if you are paying proper attention. As with all life events innately designed to have you on your ass buried in the weeds, death attached to someone with whom you share the same DNA is the international champion of such events. The prize, a gold-plated shovel necessary to dig the hole to wallow-dom. Welcome to the club for you have arrived.

I was 24 years old when my father died unexpectedly. Before my head stopped spinning, I had pitched a tent in wallow-dom. Second guessing took the first of many prizes pacing neck in neck with what if’s. If the club had a secret handshake, I mastered it with my eyes closed.

Resources were scarce, and compassionate knowing nonexistent in my cavalier life that just delivered my first real job and bills to pay. In the 80’s people whispered cancer in fear of being discovered so facing death was best done alone. No RIP social media posts granting space for hashtag empathy. Deal and move on please, you are blocking the entrance!

Through her bionic wisdom, capable of scaling mountains, climbing down deep holes and crossing oceans, my mother delivered something that helped me pack up my tent and leave wallow-dom – M. Scott Peck’s, The Road Less Traveled. Beautifully tattered and yellowed after 35 years as a reference, it is a timeless must read for those seeking a deeper meaning in life.

The Road Less Traveled

I read this book two separate times, 23 years apart. I derived separate and significant insights each time. Like a fine wine, the message aged well and spoke more broadly to me and the areas of my life that time had tested.

Immediately after my father’s death, one of my many answerless questions… Does the pain of death perpetuate death (physically or spiritually) or life? Page 133, delivered my answer. This is a glimpse of why Peck’s book has sold over seven million copies and why it is clearly, a life in death situation:

“If we can live with the knowledge that death is our constant companion, traveling on our left shoulder, then death becomes our ally and a source of wise counsel. With death’s counsel, the constant awareness of the limit of our time to live and love, we can always be guided to make the best use of our time and live life to the fullest. But if we are unwilling to fully face the fearsome presence of death on our left shoulder, we deprive ourselves of its counsel and cannot possibly live or love with clarity. When we shy away from death, the ever-changing nature of things, we inevitably shy away from life.”

Can I get a mic drop please? Even today, these words produce goose bumps and make my heart race. What a gift! They made me feel lucky to have lived and survived a death of such significance in my young life. What a blessing, always ‘traveling on my left shoulder.’ Death’s presence perpetuates life, love, honesty, openness, expression, and the values inherent within them. No room for complacent wimps. Next in line, please step to the front.