Facing Our Own Dying

And the poignancy of being alive

NOTE: Two quick links for you: I preached the other day and thought some of you might enjoy it. It’s a remix of an Easter sermon I gave years ago. And second, Elizabeth Jameson and I are teaching a new class starting April 23 on a book by Sufi master, Kabir Helminski. You can learn more about it and register here.

(Paid subscribers can find the audio version of this post at the end.)

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Hi Everyone,

For this installment in the Spiritual Sommelier Series, I want to introduce you to Riyaz Motan. Riyaz is a spiritual guide and therapist I first heard on a BATGAP (Buddha at the Gas Pump) interview. Riyaz speaks with such beautiful authenticity, vulnerability and gentle wisdom.

Sadly, out of nowhere in 2023, Riyaz was diagnosed with stage 4 lung cancer. Knowing he may not have much longer to live has added a profound dimension to his message. Unfortunately for us, Riyaz hasn’t written any books for me to point you to, but there are a number of interviews available on his website, including THIS beautiful talk he gave in January (it’s about 38 minutes).

At the time, he thought it might be the last public talk he would be able to give. I’m glad to say he is feeling well enough to speak again on Zoom this Saturday, April 12, where he’ll be interviewed by spiritual teachers: Adyashanti, Jonathan Gustin and John Prendergast. If interested, you can learn more and register for it HERE. The talk is free, with an option to donate to support his medical expenses.

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At the start of Riyaz’s January talk, I noticed that twice he used the word ‘poignant’ to describe his experience of living with a terminal illness. ‘Poignant’ is an interesting Old French word that originally meant ‘sharp’ or ‘pointed’ and referred mostly to food, like sauces and spices, that would sting the palette.

These days, when we say something is poignant, we mean it stings not the palette, but the heart. We mean something has startled us from our tendency to sleepwalk through life by the power of its truth and meaning. And in a culture that encourages us to drift from distraction to complacent distraction, our hearts are hungry for meaning, even when it stings.

And probably no subject is more stingingly meaningful, more full of aching truth, more poignant, than our own impermanence. The only guarantee life offers us, as Riyaz says, is that someday we will die.

Understandably, this is a topic most of us prefer to avoid. It brings up powerful and painful emotions of sadness, fear, regret, and even anger. This life is such a precious thing. And the thought of it going away, of us going away, can feel almost unbearable.

Nor does it help that we don’t know what happens after we die. Do we go somewhere else? Do we someday come back? Do our individual spirits dissolve back into some larger Spirit? Or do we just…end? We don’t know. We may have ideas and intuitions about it. I know what my heart tells me. But in the end, we just don’t get to know.

What a strange situation we find ourselves in. What a mystery all of this is. And what courage it takes to be born into the world, told nothing about from where we’ve come, why we’re here, or what happens to us when we leave. Whose idea was this, anyway??