I woke up in a Super 8 Motel in Cleveland, OH this morning…the first official morning 'on the road' after leaving Rochester, NY yesterday. In all fairness, I've been 'on the road' since I left my last contract job in Washington, DC on August 28th. Since then, I've been to New York City, Maine, parts all over upstate New York, including Albany, Ithaca, and Binghamton. I've already done four beautiful interviews with acquaintances, but perhaps because these were all familiar places, and so much of the trip was catching up with loved ones and saying what felt like very real goodbyes (for now, for a long time?), it did not feel like the trip started until last evening.
In trying to explain what I am doing, and why I am doing it, I often struggle with my words, and refer people to the letter I wrote to potential 'interviewees' - more or less the statement on my "About" page here. After reading it, most people are very excited about the project, but tell me that they themselves are having trouble describing what I am doing to others. I think that perhaps this dilemma stems from the fact that this is an evolving process and project…it is coming out of a deep place of questioning from my heart and, in all honesty, I do not know where this work will lead.
I have faith, however, that I am on the right path. The deep, resounding support that I have received from everyone I have shared this idea with has let me know that, while I am certainly not the first person to ask these questions, to feel called to this type of work, or to attempt the dissemination of wisdom and honest talk about death (please see my "Inspirations" page), the almost desperate words of encouragement I hear from people - "Yes…please! We need more people doing this work!", or, "Where did you come up with this idea? Aren't you afraid to talk to people about this?" - leads me to believe that there are not enough people asking questions about our death culture. There are not enough people questioning why we choose to ignore the most inevitable part of life - the most unavoidable fate of being a human - until it is directly upon us and we are completely unprepared to face it without fear and a million questions of how we feel, how we and our families will cope, how long we are willing to prolong it, and what kind of comfort we need as we navigate all of these waters.
So here I am. A 35-year-old woman who has appeared - to all outside observers - to be wandering across the landscape of her life in every oddball way possible. But all that wandering has led me here, and I hope that the rich tapestry of people, lessons, and experience that this untraditional life has given me affords me the openness I think I will need to truly hear what people are telling me. It is only through listening that we truly learn what other people need, and my greatest hope is to come to a deeper understanding of where our society's needs surrounding death lie, and discover a way to contribute to filling in that pain with comfort.