"Staying centered in the hope of a conscious, good death is a valuable endeavor for anyone, and conversations with a counselor, pastor, or family member can be quite helpful. The closer death comes, the more the universal experience of being welcomed to the other side increases. Materialism, status, and defended beliefs drop away. We enter the world naked, and we leave our body without credentials, bank accounts, or designer jeans.
"The process of leaving the physical body has been well described in writings such as Sherwin B. Nuland’s How We Die: reflections on Life’s Final Chapter and Elisabeth Kübler-Ross’s On death and Dying. Many religions describe the soul leaving the body and hold different beliefs about intermediate states of being, journeys down tunnels, across rivers, on paths in the jungle, and out across an expanse of emptiness. My own experiences at the bedside are not gauged by a particular belief system but are offered here from personal observation.
"When a patient is in a coma, with all of their vital signs still functioning, and their soul departs, the feeling in the room changes. The person looks different in a manner difficult to describe. Usually the final signs of death—heart stopped and no respiration—occur within ten to thirty minutes after the mysterious departure of the soul. The person’s consciousness may remain near the body for some time, but frequently, and especially with preparation, the soul takes immediate flight to the safety of the beyond: Heaven, Heart of God, Universe, Creator, or luminous emptiness—however you may think of the afterlife.
"Two general principles have emerged from my work with people approaching and completing this transition between the physical and spiritual realms:
The fear of death reduces the fullness of life and holds part of us captive.
When we face and overcome our fear of death, we can live in a new dimension of ease, clarity, and vitality.
"Let me illustrate my understanding of the bridge that overcomes the fear of death, allows a new appreciation and fullness of life, and can support us in our own death or help us to compassionately assist others at their time of crossing over.
"One of the key elements of training for indigenous healers in remote (or not-so-remote, anymore) parts of the world is personally facing death. The intent is to conquer this ultimate fear and then be able to walk between the worlds of physical and purely spiritual realities. Most of these training events are overwhelmingly fearsome. In Bali, an aspiring healer may be taken by the teacher to a specific temple situation on an ocean side rocky outcrop of land that is accessible only during low tide. The initiate is left there to spend the night without shelter, food, or water. Alone in the open air, as the tide slips around the temple perched on rock, night settles in that unabated inky darkness. The waves crash all around the initiate and cobras emerge from their underground dens to investigate the intruder. The only way to survive this ordeal is to sit in the stillness of meditation with no fear. Perhaps you can imagine my gratitude that my tests, arduous enough for me, did not include this particular one.
"If the healer is alive and sane when the tidal waters recede, the initiation is considered complete and successful. Is there any doubt why shamans and indigenous healers are so respected in their communities? At work in their villages, these healers are expected to bridge between worlds in order to obtain information for the family from the spirit realm. Perhaps there is an herb, a source of healing water, a ritual, or advice on an emotional issue that could help bring peace to the troubled individual. On occasion, the healing unexpectedly reaches into the cells of the body and brings remarkable physical healing. My ten years of study, during six trips to Bali, provided me with an understanding of the value of carefully crossing the chasm between heaven and earth—and between meditative states of consciousness and ordinary perception. The wisdom of Jero Mangku Sri Kandi, my Balinese teacher and mentor, transcended cultural rituals and beliefs. She was a master healer with great skill in linking dimensions of consciousness. Over a decade of experiencing her rigorous tests, her implacable demeanor, and her profoundly loving spiritual connection, she taught me to safely and reliably embrace a greater reality beyond the material world.
"Although I was not required to endure an overnight with cobras, in one of our ceremonies on the east coast of Bali, Jero Mangku directed me to sit in a certain place at a remote temple. Then she walked ahead three or four feet and began chanting. To my shocked amazement I was sitting at the entrance to a heavily populated and busy red-ant hill. These fire ants, infamous for their nasty bite, were running about, all over the place. My attention, however, came back immediately to the sound of Jero Mangku’s chanting, and I entered a blissful state of mind. In twenty sweaty (a side effect of the weather, not the ants) but peaceful minutes the ants went about their own business. Not one bit me! Certainly one of her most memorable tests, Jero Mangku repeatedly placed me in situations that required the qualities of focus, fearlessness, and compassion.
"I have since learned to apply in my work as a healer the more than thirty conscious passages Jero safely facilitated for me. These practices provide information for my clients that can only be perceived during altered states of consciousness so deep that they almost approach a deathlike state. The knowledge I gained from working with Jero has helped me as a healer in my own culture, without the necessity of reproducing Balinese temples, clouds of incense, a gamelan orchestra, or a startling chant."
Joyce Whiteley Hawkes, Cell-Level Healing: The Bridge from Soul to Cell (Atria Paperback, 2006).
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