I watch the ripples change their size
But never leave the stream
Of warm impermanence
-David Bowie
December 31, 2020
Dear friends,
Normalcy. Consistency. Stability. These were my some of my expectations (LOL!) when I wrote and sent the January 2020 newsletter.
But impermanence prevailed—as it does—and a global pandemic turned life upside down for so many of us.
In that newsletter, I suggest that if we do one thing each month to learn about death and dying, plan for the end of life, and reflect on mortality, we will have taken 12 small steps by the end of 2020 to better understand death. In turn, we will—ideally—better understand ourselves.
This year threw me in the deep end of what it means to be mortal. “Twelve small steps” seems preposterous after what so many of us experienced and continue to experience. Losses and changes, big and small. Individual and collective grief. Trauma and upheaval. Anxiety and fear about all sorts of things, including illness, death, and suffering.
I've felt shaken, stressed, sad, and confused and, at times, grounded and connected. It's been a year for holding space for my inner multitudes and that's how I'm entering 2021. Holding space for all of it.
As we transition between this year and the next, I want to share the song Changes by David Bowie with you (listen here on YouTube). Bowie is defined, in large part, by his extraordinary capacity for change. He seemed to understand and embrace impermanence in ways that I still strive for. I love this song and have found new meaning in it for myself. Perhaps it will resonate with you, too.
I'll be in touch soon with the January 2021 newsletter. Until then, I invite you to do two things. One is to read this article about how racism impacts the way Black people—even Black doctors themselves—experience illness and death. The second is to check the Death Positive DC Facebook group for events offered by me or other local people/organizations doing work around death and grief.
I want to close by thanking everyone who has been willing to talk about death, ask hard questions, and share their stories. To the many, many people who have, in the face of an extremely challenging time, offered death cafes and workshops or created other avenues for people to learn about and explore death.
Death Positive DC had a ton of death cafes, workshops, and gatherings this year, almost all of them virtual. I witnessed (and personally felt) an abundance of warmth, compassion, and empathy. People showing up, listening, and genuinely connecting with others. You all have big, wonderful hearts—and I thank you!
With gratitude,
Sarah
Sarah Farr
(she/her/hers)
Founder & Director, Death Positive DC
www.DeathPositiveDC.com
Facebook & Instagram & Twitter
Promoting conversations about death and connecting people around this topic
through social media and in-person events in the DC-area since 2017.