Playground 15

Yes­ter­day I had a talk with my patient, Car­olina. She always hugs me, and she likes to talk. Yes­ter­day, as she often does, she reminded me that she had died twice and come back. She saw the light. She said she is no longer afraid of dying, she is sure that she will see God and that she will be ok. I can vouch for almost dying. I have been with her when these moments occurred – at least one of them.

Maybe she did see God or maybe her neu­ro­trans­mit­ters were fir­ing their last rounds. Maybe it is just a new expe­ri­ence after this one. When she told the story to me I didn’t get the heavy guilt-ridden feel­ing I some­times get with these con­ver­sa­tions. I didn’t feel a bur­den, a judge­ment. I got a pic­ture of some­thing new. I got a glimpse of being able to look at death with­out the shame I have always had – could never be good enough to die with­out going to hell. What was the use of hell again? Eter­nal pun­ish­ment? I really just can’t believe in a hell like that or a heaven in which peo­ple, who take a lad­der ride, are rejoic­ing with the knowl­edge of the eter­nal pun­ish­ment hap­pen­ing at the same time to peo­ple who went down a chute. Car­olina wasn’t speak­ing with the energy of some­one who finally made it to heaven. She was just report­ing that some­thing else was going on after this stops going on. Some­thing she liked. I felt good about that.

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Bend Light will be show­ing a photo essay in Bend, start­ing this Fri­day at the TBD Lofts on Bond street, as part of the first Fri­day Art Walk. The pho­tos will be up for a month, I think. I hope to see some of you there.

Bend, OR 2006, Nikon D100