Reframing meaning by embracing death

In our current death system, death is avoided, denied, postponed, outsourced, rushed through, and feared. “Death, or at least the kind of death that is personal, proximate, and oftentimes tragic and immensely painful, results in, among other things such as terror and bewilderment, a state of paralysis” (Sanders, 2009, pp. 447-448). Feeling paralyzed with grief and denial, we find it difficult to cope with the immense loss that comes with death, clinging to social norms either as an anchor of familiarity, or because we do not know what else to do. By immersing ourselves in the painful yet cathartic embrace of death, we can redefine our relationship to it.

Embracing death means shedding our fears and confronting our pain and discomfort head-on to emerge in a fundamental acceptance of death; it means slowing down the hectic pace of life and learning to sit with the inevitable pain of loss and grief; it means coming to terms with a new reality through mindfulness in the present moment (see Kabat-Zinn, 2013). According to funeral director Joel,* "the most beautiful part of death [is] if people allow themselves to be in that presence. … Death is one of those only life experiences that make people stop for one damn second and reflect… and that's the importance of ceremony."

The importance of ceremony and rituals and taking time for healing was also emphasized by Lee, who highlighted that these need not be religious or highly structured and scripted events, but should rather reflect personal meaning to the family. Bell (2009) discusses a new paradigm

107 of rituals in which new rites are invented, primarily as a “medium of expression” (p. 241). As we saw in previous sections, families are increasingly seeking new ways to personalize funerals even within the mainstream industry, pointing to a larger shift towards individualized funerals and rituals. However, what they are missing is the active, hands-on participation as well as the connection to nature that are both so inherent in green burials. Precisely these two elements are often cited as the most healing, cathartic parts of green funerals (Herring, 2019). Joel* believes that if more people had such hands-on experiences with death, they would lead "a more appreciative life, in the sense that they [would] realize how important life is and how important it is for it to go on in many ways.” Thus, by "recovering older practices […] renewed meanings are emerging - ones that are rekindling our bond with the earth" (Kelly, 2015, p. 6).

Overcoming our defenses and inertia around the subject of death is no small feat, yet it can be broken down into small, actionable steps. Researching and discussing funeral choices early in life not only ensures that everything is settled whenever death finally pulls us away, but it also allows for more time to make these important decisions and weigh all our options. In most cases, people who choose eco-friendly funerals have thoroughly researched their options and prepared arrangements well in advance. Alan* told me about his mother’s home funeral, which she had spent years enthusiastically planning down to the details. Complete with colorful puppets and a marching band for a funeral procession, this woman organized “the most magical, profound, joyful burial” he had ever seen. Rather than putting off funeral plans, Alan’s* mother found great joy in the process, embracing the opportunity to plan a huge fiesta for everyone she knew and loved. While not everyone will choose to have a parade at their funeral, or a big event in general, this example demonstrates that while green funerals are eco-friendly are materially simple, they need not be plain. Far from the ordinary, “impersonal, overly-sanitised [sic] funeral service” (Monaghan, 2009, p. 1037), green funerals are colorful, beautiful, meaningful events.

Since convincing the cemetery owners to add a natural burial section into the adjacent woods, cemetery manager Dyanne has experienced many green burials, all of which were unique and beautiful in their own way. She shared the story of a man who loved German Shepherds all his life, so the German Shepherd Rescue attended his woodland burial. As the man was lowered into the earth, all the dogs bowed down around the grave. At the green funeral of a little girl, all her classmates attended, writing messages on the simple wooden coffin that her father had built her: “Say hi to God for us,” “Have fun!” “You don’t have to go to school anymore,” and

“I’m glad you’re our angel” [Dyanne, PI, 2020]. Kimberley at Ramsey Creek Preserve told me

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about the funeral of a midwife who had helped deliver twenty-five children. All of the children attended her conservation burial, decorating her coffin and even exclaiming “this is weirdly fun!” [Kimberley, PI, 2020]. These intimate experiences create connection and vulnerability, priming us for healing, while also demonstrating that death need not be a scary thing. The children in particular remind us that there is still joy and love to be found, even among grief.

These stories stand in sharp contrast to the ‘traditional’ funeral I described in Chapter 5, and bear witness to the fact that death "can either bring out the best or the worst" in us [Ibid.]. Before returning to Oslo, during my very last field observation, I had the great fortune to partake in a conservation burial in the woods of South Carolina.

A ‘HOLE’ NEW WORLD: PARTICIPATING IN A CONSERVATION BURIAL

It was an intimate family affair – only the closest family members were present, so it was an honor to be welcomed into this special, memorable occasion. We all bowed our heads down in honor of the woman in the ground, wrapped in a blue floral quilt on a bed of pine branches and rose petals. Kimberley stood by the head of the grave, speaking gently before playing a song on the flute. The wind carried the soft music, rustling the leaves on the tree branches and reminding us of the life and spirit all around us. Despite the serenity in the air, the two young grandchildren had trouble remaining quiet and standing still – a poignant reminder that ‘real life’ continues even in the depths of grief.

One of the boys kept walking up to the edge of the grave and peeking in, fascinated by the big hole in the ground. Not fully understanding the concept of a funeral at his innocent age, it probably seemed like a fun place to play. The boy’s worried mother kept pulling him back, trying to keep both children quiet. So, it was not picture-perfect, but it was certainly real, and that is what made this experience so personal and so beautiful.

Each family member took turns sprinkling rose petals onto the body, followed by a shovelful of dirt. The two young grandsons found great delight in the shoveling of dirt.

Afterwards, the family went for a walk through the woods, and the two grave diggers I had met earlier that morning came to finish closing up the grave. I watched the men for a while engaging in this back-breaking work, asking them a few questions as they continued to shovel. There was an extra shovel nearby, and I followed my urge to grab it and join them. It was harder than expected! It was also a very strange sensation, dropping dirt onto the blanketed woman in the hole. After a few minutes, she was completely covered, becoming one with the earth. The men added vertical sticks into

109 the dirt, which will quickly break down and facilitate the flow of air and water, helping the body to break down as well. The family returned from their walk just as the grave was about finished, and it was time for us all to head home. I took one last deep breath before moving away from the gravesite, taking it all in. Goodbye, I silently said to the stranger in the earth, as I walked back through the woods towards the parking lot.

Image 5: A blanketed woman lays in her grave surrounded by rose petals in the woods. | © Photograph by the author.