A Radically Positive (and Honest) Look at Dying
Kimchi talking about her dying process, what to do with her body, etc at the weekly pottery studio event. Art projects, goddess figurines, butt cast, blogs, “guess Kimchi’s exit date” contest, etc. Positive deathing!
Thanks to Rainbow for the video.
Mollie
This is an exploration of the grief brought on by the death of my beloved cat, Mooki, aka Mookie and several nicknames, such as Love Beast, Mr. Underfoot, Little Buddy, and the Mookinator. He was a very loving friend.
It has been almost a month and I have been very aware of my grief process from the beginning. I have paid special attention to it because my best (human) friend is dying and that “future grief” is very real. Also, Mooks is the first being with who I have had such intimate contact and daily love that has died. And I feel responsible for him—he died under my care. Continue reading “A Personal Exploration of a Particular Grief”
This little video is a tasty mash-up of topics steeped in the interior juices of Kimchi’s perspective. Topics include drugs, shitting, Hospice, grief, pain. Lots of smiles and laughter! This was filmed the day after Kimchi got back from visiting Colorado where she saw her aunt and went to a personal growth workshop with a couple of good friends. December 2016.
Kimchi is riding her leaky boat of a body into regions of the sea for which she has no charts, (with regular shouts of “Ship going down!” followed by laughter). She is laughing, crying, addressing her “bucket list”(bailing is low on the agenda), cooking, going for rides in the woods on the golf cart to visit folks and let her dog get some joyful exercise, etc. Continue reading “Ship Going Down!”
My closest friend has cancer and it is going to kill her. Her body that is, not HER, exactly. Her body, mind, ego, experiences and amazing personality and worldview will disappear, but not the rest of her—the spark we call soul or spirit.
When I met Kimchi, in spring 2016, I knew she had cancer; I believe I’d seen a notice in the Earthaven newsletter that she was fundraising for holistic treatment her insurance didn’t cover. But that first time I saw her traipsing up the path to Medicine Wheel, aglow in shades of teal and turquoise (and, in my memory, accompanied by the tinkle of tiny cowbells), her illness seemed like a distant threat she could easily beat. It, not she, would pass. Continue reading “Another Assignment, by Helen Zuman”
