In my last blog post I ended by saying "It may sound morbid, but for me, the practice of yoga is about preparing for death. I practice yoga hoping to find peace of mind when I am faced with the loss of my loved ones as well as my own earthly life."

This week my practice was put to the test.

I have spent the last 9 days staring death in the face, watching as my grandmother made the transition from this life to the beyond. As a hospice volunteer, I have done this on many other occasions, but this time it was personal. It was my grandmother who was picking at the sheets and talking to people that I could not see.

When I arrived, my grandmother was in the hospital, hooked up to machines, and my mother was agitated and scared. Her mother had been a vibrant, independent woman for 88 years and my mother was not prepared for the inevitable. She said to me "I have no frame of reference for this. We have been a healthy family. I don't know what to do." I am writing this post so that maybe one person who reads it will be better prepared and will not suffer some of the mental anguish that my family has gone through. WARNING: If you are not ready to hear about what happens when a person makes a natural transition from life to death, you should stop reading now.

Volunteering at Hospice Savannah, I have learned what the signs of approaching death are and I have learned that while every death is unique, there is a pattern to what happens to a person as they near the end of their life. Understanding the process of dying has made this time for me much easier than it might otherwise have been. Note that what I will describe below is what I have read in many publications about the dying process, it is also based on my personal experience. Not everybody will go through this exact process, but I have seen it over and over again.

As a person nears the end of life, they turn from the external to the internal. They will stop eating and become detached from their surroundings. When this happened, my mother became very upset and sometimes combative, arguing with her about needing to eat, even though she had no appetite. She was also saddened that Grandma seemed to be giving up, and did not have her usual zeal for life. Grandma was not refusing to eat to be combative, her body just had no need or desire for the nutrition. Likewise, her focus was moving inward, rather than looking to the outside world. In Death, as in our Yoga practice, we look inward for peace.

After the initial withdrawal from food and surroundings, my grandmother became very weak and unable to get out of bed. Her movements became agitated and she would pick incessantly at her clothing and sheets. To me it seemed she was knitting, and sometimes as if she was petting her beloved cat, Mattie. I have no idea if she was aware of her hand movements, but I have seen this pattern in many patients at Hospice. She also began reciting names and numbers repeatedly. One day it was the numbers 6-3-2, another afternoon my mother came home asking my grandfather if he knew who Mary was, because she had been repeating her name over and over.

In a way it reminds me of the practice of Japa meditation with a Mala. Japa Meditation is the practice of saying a single sound or phrase over and over. This repetition provides a foundation that helps the mind to gradually disconnect with the external world. The use of a set of prayer beads, or Mala, provides a "physical" anchor as the practitioner proceeds to higher levels of the practice. As you become more and more disconnected from the external world through meditation, the Mala is meant to serve as your physical connection with this world.

I can recall times in my life when I was inadvertently using mantra meditation to calm myself down in dangerous or frightening situations. When I was 16 and fell off a cliff and dislocated my shoulder, I started reciting a nursery rhyme over and over while I waited for help. This is the one of the mind's natural responses in times of stress. The wonderful thing is that if we know this practice we can choose to do Japa Meditation, even if it is just to calm ourselves down during our daily stresses.

After a period of time without food and water, the body becomes very still, but the mind (and spirit) is still active. My grandmother did not move very much in the last few days I was with her, but even when she could not open her eyes, she would acknowledge my presence. I would talk to her about times we had together and she would sometimes verbally agree. They say the sense of hearing is the last to go, and that the person dying can hear and sense what is said in their surroundings up until the very end.

We got a phone call from the nurse at 3:30 am on Thursday, telling us that we needed to come to the nursing facility as soon as we could. When we arrived at her room a little before 4:00 am, she was resting peacefully but her hands had turned blue and her breathing was erratic. They call this Cheyne-Stokes breathing, and it is usually a good sign that the end is very near. When I spoke to her and touched her forehead her eyebrows seemed to move a little and I could tell she knew I was there, even though her eyes were open but she was clearly not seeing me. As we sat with her, the room became peaceful and her breathing slowed. At one point my grandfather touched her shoulder and asked if she was still breathing. She took one more breath and then let go.

We knew this was coming, so there was no surprise, no outburst of tears. We spent a few moments with her and then called the nurse.

The afternoon before she died I did my yoga practice outside on the patio at my parents' house. As I rolled out my mat I had hoped to do a strong 90 minute Baptiste style power yoga practice to work out some of the kinks and sluggishness from sitting in hospital rooms for days. As I rested in child's pose, trying to let go of my thoughts, I felt drawn to a more peaceful, meditative practice. Even though my ego and intellect was telling me I needed to move and breath vigorously, my spirit was feeling peaceful. I made my way through about 20 minutes of long slow postures and then rested into Savasana. Savasana translates to "Corpse pose" in English. As i lay there as a corpse I drifted into one of the most peaceful savasanas I have ever had. When I opened my eyes an unknown amount of time later, the blue sky was sparking as if there were fireflies all around me. At first I thought it was just the initial transition from dark to light, but the tiny lights persisted. It was as if I was seeing the energy in the air above me. I kept closing my eyes thinking that I would lose this view once I reopened them, but it remained. I thought to myself that I was actually witnessing the universal energy that pervades everything. I was seeing the unity in everything I was experiencing Yoga! Hmmmmm....

In conclusion. I think my practice is working. The last 9 days have been quite a journey, but they have not been filled with fear or sadness. At the end of her life, my Grandmother was surrounded by love and full of love. She was ready for whatever comes next and made a peaceful transition when the time came. I feel that peace now as I look out the window and see one her beloved cardinals sitting on the bird feeder.