The Balance of Life and Death

If there is one law in the universe that I truly believe in, it is the fact that there is always a natural balance to things. Often we ask ourselves why we or those we love suffer. Whether it is illness, physical or mental, old age, or loss, I believe there is purpose to be found in the struggle. Living with mental illness since I was seventeen, and before that suffering with an eating disorder, I have had my fair share of struggle. Still, there is so much blessing to unpack in both my childhood and adult years. As I mellow out and grow, I can be still and reflect on this. In humility and gratitude, I realize that nothing is owed to me. As I develop faith in a higher power, I find divine meaning in the balance of struggle and blessing in my life. Much of the blessing is born of the dark times, like flowers bursting forth from rich soil. The decomposition of matter, helps these flowers grow and blossom. The compost too, provides so much to learn from. What would life be without its lessons and opportunity for growth? Again, we see a balance of light and dark, life and death.

Every birth beautiful as it is, is coupled with a death. People pass from this earth every day, and as we mature in life, growing slowly towards our own perishability, we experience even more death and loss. We become aware of our aging bodies, and we become increasingly aware of those around us that are sick, suffering with disability, old age, or that are dying. In our recovery communities, we may be painfully aware of those who pass before their time. When I reflect on those that have died before their time, I ask the question of why? Why did they have to die, it seems so unfair and unjust. Asking this question is what leads me to the revelation of the balance of life and death. War, famine, illness, and addiction are everywhere. But so is birth, marriage, love, and joy. Our joy is made all the richer because of the sacrifices made in the loss. And it is okay. Everything is okay. Everything has a purpose. Knowing this, I can move forward in gratitude and try to alleviate what suffering I can in others through love, acts of service, and generosity of spirit.

In nature we see this all the time. Fir trees that grow tall and strong around me on this island, are challenged by the strong winds and shed branches alive and dead, pine cones and needles. Plants are constantly dying and shedding life. Trees shed their leaves every year in the fall, and these dead leaves dress the ground, mulching and providing nourishment and shelter for all kinds of life. The ancient willow on my property is a perfect example. Over a hundred years old, many times huge chunks of the tree have fallen to the earth, bending but not breaking. From the earth, they are resilient and what seems like a branch that has given up has not given in. It pushes forth new branches and growth. More like an organism than a tree, it never dies, but constantly evolves, shedding some life, and birthing new life from the fallen trunks. What seems to be loss, is actually opportunity for evolution and growth. It is possible that because the willow is so innate in this manner, it is ever stronger, more resilient and long lived than other plants and organisms.

We can learn from our mistakes and our pain. My mental illness first seemed like an unnecessary tragedy in my life. Because of it, I developed further trauma from hospitalizations and living through some terrible experiences that would not have occurred if I had not been symptomatic. I thus fell into darkness and despair. But crawling out of this dark pit of despair taught me about hope. I learned to survive in the struggle and I built amazing resilience and strength. I learned that a person can heal and change. I found deep spiritual healing because I needed it and developed a personal relationship with the God of my understanding. I learned to be creative with my music, painting, poetry, blogging, journaling, and tarot, because these became tools for helping me recover. I accepted help, and this taught me about true humility. My programs taught me to be compassionate, patient, and honest, and gave me a guide for better living. I bonded deeply in my relationship, as we worked together through calamity and crises. We learned that we can truly be there for each other in our struggle, and this helped pull me from despair. I found a drive and purpose to heal my bonds with family, and this helped bring great nourishment to my life. I came to the realization of how lucky and blessed I am because of the stark contrast between the suffering and the joy. I am a better human because of my suffering. I can reach out to others who are finding their way, and offer support and compassion. Life has become meaningful and colorful. I feel so blessed in my healing. Knowing that I am not owed or promised any blessing, it becomes something that I can personally cultivate from the death and darkness that I have endured, and this is empowering. The result is me planting my two feet firmly on the earth and in reality. A reality where there is a balance of life and death, a life where purpose is abundant, and a life where blessing and light have true meaning.