We are coming upon Halloween, Samhain, All Saints Day, the Day of the Dead, a time to honor our ancestors and look the Grim Reaper right in the eye in hope of finding something ~ a truth, a secret, a way forward or out ~ within those hollow orbs. Ultimately, none of us knows the truth about what lays on the other side. But we can look to the words of the wise to guide us toward arriving at that final moment and realizing, yes, my life was worth it, it was not in vain.
When I go down to the grave, I can say, like so many others, I have finished my work; but I cannot say I have finished my life. My life will continue. My tomb is not a blind alley. It is a thoroughfare. ~ Victor Hugo
- Silver Era Tarot ~ Aunia Kahn, Artist
There is no death! What seems so is transition. This life of mortal breath is but a suburb of the life elysian, whose portal we call death. ~ Longfellow
If your songs contain truths, then death is just the middle of a long lasting existence. ~ Lucan, Roman poet
The best way to prepare for death is to spend every day of life as though it were the last. Think of the end of worldly honor, wealth and pleasure and ask yourself: And then? And then? ~ St. Philip Romolo Neri
Truly, truly, I say unto you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it bears much fruit. ~ John 12:24
We begin to die as soon as we are born and the end is linked to the beginning. ~ Manilius
The doors we open and close each day decide the lives we live. ~ Flora Whittemore
If you realize that all things change, there is nothing you will try to hold on to. If you are not afraid of dying, there is nothing you cannot achieve. ~ Unknown
The key to change… is to let go of fear. ~ Roseanne Cash
Tarot Authors on the Death Card
On the journey through the night…there is no guaranteed return ticket. ~ Hajo Banzhaf, Tarot and the Journey of the Hero
Death becomes the Teacher Card when you realize that coming to terms with death is true liberation. You can then die to those rules that constrict your freedom of spirit. ~ Mary K. Greer, Tarot Constellations
Death is not only a physical transformation but the change from a subjective to an objective state of mind. ~ Amber Jayanti, Living the Tarot
Whatever Death signifies, you can be sure that, whether or not you’re ready, here it comes–barreling around the corner. ~ Yasmine Galenorn, Tarot Journeys
You’d think that the Death card would be the last of the major arcana. It isn’t because Death is merely a spoke on the wheel of life, the gate to the afterlife. It’s a step in a process, a stage in development. The body dies but the spirit remains. ~ Lady Lorelei, Tarot Life Planner
The planets turn in a slow orbit of seasons–the barren sleep of winter always leading the Earth into the warmth and resurgence of spring; the moon lives and dies, and lives again, holding oceans and lovers captive in her spell. ~ Michele Morgan, A Magical Course in Tarot
The wise welcome the cleansing power of this card, which almost certainly suggests a time when you will have the opportunity to let go of something that is holding you back. ~ Philip and Stephanie Carr-Gomm, The Druidcraft Tarot
Auntie Moon 
This was Abraham Lincoln’s favorite poem. I had just finished reading it when I received notice of this blog post and it seems rather appropriate…
Oh! Why Should the Spirit of Mortal Be Proud?” written by William Knox,
“Oh! why should the spirit of mortal be proud?– Like a swift-fleeing meteor, a fastflying cloud, A flash of the lightning, a break of the wave, He passeth from life to his rest in the grave.
“The leaves of the oak and the willow shall fade, Be scattered around, and together be laid; And the young and the old, and the low and the high, Shall moulder to dust, and together shall lie.
“The infant a mother attended and loved; The mother, that infant’s affection who proved, The husband, that mother and infant who blessed– Each, all, are away to their dwellings of rest.
“The maid on whose cheek, on whose brow, in whose eye, Shone beauty and pleasure–her triumphs are by; And the memory of those who loved her and praised, Are alike from the minds of the living erased.
“The hand of the king, that the sceptre hath borne, The brow of the priest, that the mitre hath worn, The eye of the sage, and the heart of the brave, Are hidden and lost in the depths of the grave.
“The peasant, whose lot was to sow and to reap, The herdsman, who climbed with his goats up the steep; The beggar, who wandered in search of his bread, Have faded away like the grass that we tread.
“The saint, who enjoyed the communion of heaven, The sinner, who dared to remain unforgiven; The wise and the foolish, the guilty and just, Have quietly mingled their bones in the dust.
“So the multitude goes–like the flower or the weed That withers away to let others succeed; So the multitude comes–even those we behold, To repeat every tale that has often been told:
“For we are the same our fathers have been; We see the same sights our fathers have seen; We drink the same stream, we view the same sun, And run the same course our fathers have run.
“The thoughts we are thinking, our fathers would think; >From the death we are shrinking, our fathers would shrink; To the life we are clinging, they also would cling– But it speeds from us all like a bird on the wing.
“They loved–but the story we cannot unfold; They scorned–but the heart of the haughty is cold; They grieved–but no wail from their slumber will come; They joyed–but the tongue of their gladness is dumb.
“They died–aye, they died–and we things that are now, That walk on the turf that lies o’er their brow, And make in their dwellings a transient abode, Meet the things that they met on their pilgrimage road.
“Yea! hope and despondency, pleasure and pain, Are mingled together in sunshine and rain; And the smile and the tear, the song and the dirge, Still follow each other, like surge upon surge.
“‘Tis the wink of an eye,–’tis the draught of a breath;– >From the blossom of health to the paleness of death, >From the gilded saloon to the bier and the shroud:– Oh! why should the spirit of mortal be proud?”
Thanks for sharing that, Mimi. I added it to my Scorpio poetry collection and my new moon packet. It’s really, really good.
I love Dali’s Death card. The tree is cut but Death himself carries on the saplings of that tree. So I see it as Death carries on the seeds of change.
That’s excellent imagery, Moongirl. I don’t know the Dali tarot, so I did a search and really like the card. Even being transplanted, there is death for one part of our life, but the new roots do come.
“If your songs contain truths, then death is just the middle of a long lasting existence” really resonated with me, especially after losing souls on both sides of the age continuum: my 75-year-old mother as well as mono-amniotic twins. To think of this time of living life without them as merely part of a longer journey, perhaps one without end, helps a great deal, especially during days like yesterday, when my daughter worried I, who have battled breast cancer, would be lonely when I died.
(“In Memory of Our Spirit Girls” Dancing Through the Lines dancingthroughthelines.wordpress.com)
Also like:
“We begin to die as soon as we are born and the end is linked to the beginning.” Reminds me of a “Social Psychology of Death and Dying” course I took as a UCSC undergrad. The first day in class, our professor asked for a show of hands: “Who here is dying?” Nobody raised their hands. (We were barely in our twenties! What did we know? What did we understand about life?) Of course, here she smiled. “Correction. I’ve got news for you. All of you are dying. And I, as well.”
Hi
I have tried to contact you via your about page, but don’t seem to have had any luck. I love this post, and have linked to it. Could you please contact me via email or my blog?
Hi, Laura.
I’ve emailed you from my yahoo account.