Death meditation, the experience of Hajnalka Indigo Wings
At the Ängsbacka New Years celebration, I recreated the death meditation. It was a dream and nightmare returning. Here is the experience of Hajnalka Indigo Wings.
This is a video that can only be seen on my web page.
How do you tell someone they are going to die?
How do you tell yourself you are going to die?
Andy says we are going to play it.
We are slowly entering the room, one by one, in silence. At the door, we each get a number.
It is darkness and candles and sighs in the room. The soft haunting sound of a jazz piano.
We come in one by one and take our seats in the spiral.
It feels weird at first. In the silence, alone with ourselves, with no guidance and instruction, what are we to do?
We are sitting in the Hall of Death, waiting for our number to be called.
Mine is 8.
There is no way to know when it will be up. I might be the first to go, or the last.
What am I to do with this time that has been given to me?
I want love before I die.
A few metres away Mother sits. Her child on her lap. Her eyes closed but he is wide awake, looking right into me. I look in his infinite eyes and let myself be embraced by the profound sense of love, hope and wonder that emanates from him. Then I lift my gaze, I meet the eyes of the Mother. She is grieving. I am grieving. We sit together, lost in each other’s eyes and tears and grief.
I am grateful that she gives me her love that she allows me to see her and me to be seen before I die.
We say good-bye.
I take in the room, full of people, waiting for death. There is a soft calmness and serenity.
I sit down.
The voice says, “The next number is…”
Then, a profound moment of quietness. An infinite second of certainty. It is going to be me. It is my turn. Now, it is my turn and there is nothing I can do. I sit in that moment as it stretches into endlessness, and I feel everything. I feel at peace. I feel happy. I feel excited. I feel sad, curious and hopeful.
“Eight.” The voice says. Eight, I know.
I stand up and stretch my arms towards the sky. Here I come, life.
I walk. I look into your eyes, love, on the way out, and we both bow in front of the altar of the heart.
It is dark and cold outside as I walk home in the silence of the snow.
Once we all have died, there is no reason to not live.