Burying the Dead

“They build a cemetery right across the street from your house!” exclaimed my friend Jen.

Part of me thought that it was a little creepy having a cemetery so close, after all, I’d seen every horror flick made between 1964 and 1980, thanks to a mother with a fascination with the macabre. Images of flesh-eating zombies danced in my head as Jen continued filling me in on the recent zoning changes in my neighborhood. How am I going to sleep? I wondered to myself. All I could think about were the nightmares that I was likely to have from here on out. “I don’t know if I’m going to be able to live that close to a cemetery,” I told Jen.

“But it’s really beautiful,” replied Jen, “You’ll see.”

What’s that going to feel like? I wondered for myself. I instinctively felt an aversion to having the dead so close to me. As we rounded the corner, what came into view was not a scene out of one of my mother’s movies, but rather an image of peace, tranquility and rest. A long pergola with flowering branches graced the entrance. There were no headstones, just grand expanses of lush, green grass. The air was fresh, and I could hear birds singing and children laughing. I felt content. And then I woke up.

Curious dream, I thought to myself. The emotions that it evoked were so strong, the images so clear.

Later that day, I participated in a Yoga Nidra workshop. If you’re not familiar with Yoga Nidra, think relaxation poses combined with hypnotherapy and you’ll have the idea. I’d been having trouble sleeping since the awful breakup of my last relationship, and I knew that I had to develop a healthy way to get a good night’s sleep, so I’d signed up for the class. The heading on the flyer said “Sleep Like a Baby with Yoga Nidra.” Well, I was already sleeping like a baby (waking up every two hours!), but I was pretty sure that was not what they meant.

When I walked into the workshop, I was surprised to find about 60 other insomniacs already camped out around the room. Bolsters and blankets were stacked around all of the participants- the essentials for human nest-making in the world of yoga.

Lisa, our guide in this journey, led us through some gentle yoga poses before settling us into Savasana, (also known as Corpse Pose). Eyes closed, body relaxed, mind quiet. I listened to Lisa’s voice, following her instructions as she directed our attention to different parts of our bodies. As we settled into our trance-like states, I could hear participants around the room starting to snore. I would later joke with my friends about sleeping with 60 people in one afternoon.

I followed Lisa’s voice as she then called out images to the group, “Golden Egg, Pyramid, Eagle…” Pictures flashed through my mind with little consequence or emotional reaction. “Dancing Shiva, Om, Mandala…” she continued. “Dead Body…”

Whoa! I felt my whole spiritual body lurch back in aversion to that one! The image hit my unconscious in a way that I had never felt before. It was unsettling, and I found myself a little disturbed that she threw something so repulsive in amongst all those other pleasant images that she was suggesting. My emotional reaction was so great that it stuck with me. Why did my spiritual body/unconscious react in such a violent way?

As Lisa closed the session, she asked if any of us experienced any kind of physical/emotional reactions to any of the images. She explained that if we felt any strong sensations, it was because our spirits needed to release a fear, desire or old wound. She was asked by one of the other participants why she threw in “dead body” amongst all of those other benign images. She explained that all the images were archetypes or parts of the collective unconscious. She said that most Americans fear death, but that death is a natural part of the life cycle; that we must accept death as inevitable, and understand that our peace with its concept will help us fully embrace our lives. She continued by explaining that any kind of strong sensation that we experienced to any of the images was our subconscious releasing spiritual pain.

After the workshop, I felt an odd sense of peace, in fact I felt a sense of contentment that I hadn’t felt in over a year. My long term angst had everything to do with the dissolution of my last relationship. That breakup had been the ultimate betrayal and heartbreak, leaving me wondering if I could/would ever be able to love and trust again. For a while after I had kicked that man out of my life, I found myself still wanting him on some level. To stop that pattern, I started my own little practice of aversion therapy. Whenever I found myself missing him or thinking that he was good (which he clearly was not), I would picture him as a maggot-ridden, rotting corpse. I know, it sounds gross, but it definitely stops any thoughts of desire dead in their tracks! I pictured the smell, the decay and all of the worst images of death. No one wants to snuggle up with a corpse, the only practical thing to do with the dead is to bury it.

You see, hanging on to lost love, or a fantasy of reuniting with someone that is clearly bad for you is kind of like clinging to the dead. If you can’t let go, you can never be open to what life can offer you in love. If you’ve ever read Faulkner’s short story A Rose for Emily, you’ll know what I mean. Clinging to a corpse keeps you stuck. In order to move forward, you must bury the dead once and for all.

So it all came together in my unconscious that day: the cemetary in my dream, the release in the Yoga Nidra workshop and my own images of a love that had died. My unconscious had finally thrown that last shovel of dirt on the corpse, putting it where it belonged, in its final resting place. I was now free, no longer haunted by unresolved issues: the flesh-eating zombies of the unconscious. I had buried my dead and was now able to fully embrace my life.