03/17/2026
When death comes
like the hungry bear in autumn;
when death comes and takes all the bright coins from his purse
to buy me, and snaps the purse shut;
when death comes
like the measle-pox
when death comes
like an iceberg between the shoulder blades,
I want to step through the door full of curiosity, wondering:
what is it going to be like, that cottage of darkness?
---From "When Death Comes"
By Mary Oliver
Hello Everyone!
There’s been a lot of dying lately. Not just out there in this crazy, hell-bent-on-destruction world we live in, but personally and closely. In the last three months, I have had four people I knew well die, one expectedly, two suddenly, and one by his own hand.
And so, I’ve been walking around with thoughts of death, turning it over and over in my mind and my heart. As with all the deepest things, I tend to turn to the ancients for some insight and perspective.
The ancients used to speak about and advocate for what they termed “making a good death.” In pre-modern times, death was seen as the natural course of things, not a thing to be feared or ignored, but a thing to be met with and spoken to, spoken about, welcomed in, even. Death meant that whatever you had planned in coming to this life, whatever you had agreed to undertake and learn and create was now drawing to a close. Contract paid in full; job done. The dying time was a time to feel gratified, loved, and honored.
And that’s what you reflected on, as you lay on your deathbed—the lives you had changed, the things you had made, the words you had spoken, the people you had loved and cared for, the wisdom you had gained. How had you grown your own soul in this now waning life? (Even if most of the learning was packed into those last few days.)
The survivors of the person who lay upon the deathbed—the family and friends—would also participate in and encourage the life review, the conflict resolution, the seeking and bestowing of forgiveness and understanding, the expressions of deep and boundless love. So, that when the last breath was taken and the body was being interred, there was no residual regret or things left unsaid. And that made the grief process lighter and clearer.
If a person died young, perhaps suddenly or tragically, and without the benefit of “making a good death,” the family took steps to contact them in the Otherworld to ensure they were transitioning well from out of their body back into pure spirit. The “making of a good death” came after, instead of before the death.
Nowadays, we tend to look at death as something gone wrong, an unnatural error of some kind that should have been prevented from happening. I remember my brother, who died in 1989, telling me once in a vision I had after his passing, that his death was not a failure. He said that because yes, I had been looking at it that way, and it wasn’t honoring him. It wasn’t respectful of his soul’s greater wisdom, a concept we all so commonly fail to grasp in these matters of dying.
Perhaps the most incomprehensible—and some would say reprehensible—death is the one that comes by one’s own hand. This is a death that I and the members of my family are turning around and around in our minds and hearts right now. It’s a confounding thing for us among the living to understand, to not, in several cases, feel outraged about. So, I asked the helping spirits to weigh in. What do we need to understand in the wake of this death?
“In a word, sovereignty. You call it free will. We see it as the ever-evolving relationship and conversation--maybe stand-off at times--between the soul and the one who carries it, carries it mostly in pure ignorance of its depth and magnitude.
You might see it this way. The divine soul which spirits you through every life—and death, for that matter—is like the parent. The worldly, conditioned self that seeks and aims to find approval at every turn, is like the child. And like any loving parent, the soul will still embrace and love the lost and troubled child, even when, in a fit of frustration at its perceived powerlessness, it acts to destroy a most precious thing.
You don’t—none of you—know what you know, remember who you are, or even vaguely comprehend the majesty within you that requires no approval, no reassurance, no permission, or inclusion from the outer world. You are not a subject of the empire; nor, for that matter, will you ever become the ruler of the empire. You are the empire! Not just a sovereign being, but Sovereignty itself, a marriage of divine perfection and temporal yearning, a living, ongoing collaboration and intertwining. The Alpha and the Omega.
You suffer from nothing more than forgetting, a perceived separation from something you cannot possibly be separated from. Some of you will experience glimpses of your sovereignty. Some of you may strive daily to embrace and regain it. While others will be so separated from themselves, they will live and endure only through the temporal—the world--which, for the most part, is a fickle and heartless master. And consequently, those who worship, who bow and scrape to this master will more often than not become wretched under his callous thumb. It becomes certain, should you live your life this way, that you will lose, and lose much.
There is great, albeit stark wisdom that is earned through the taking or preempting of one’s natural life, but it is not a sin. It is an epiphany—a resounding clarity that dawns once the breath is gone, and only the spirit remains. A crucial Self-realization and confrontation. Furthermore, it is a prerogative rendered to each one of you by the gift of your free will.
If Source sends you to Earth with free will—it MUST be unconditional. Otherwise, what is the point? If you’re coming to each life, aiming and longing to learn ALL lessons, how can some be skirted? Yes, some wisdom can be gained through the light, but there is no shame in learning through the shadow. On this plane of existence, you will explore the shadow as much as you do the light, and in recent times, it seems, the shadow has been the dominant field of learning in the human experience.
The soul is entirely neutral on this matter, another choice in an endless sea of choices. Rest assured, you each have known death by your own hand, and if you cannot forgive the faltering of another for this, it is because you cannot forgive yourself. If you look again, from the soul, you will find the compassion and acceptance every death--no matter how it occurs--is entitled to and requires.
The necessary wisdom and understanding already lives within you. It doesn’t need to be gained or earned. Like all things, it is possible and it is at your fingertips.”
And so it is.
Deep Peace of the Snowdrops,
Jane