by Mary Hatch
My partner is grappling with his mortality. He expresses his fears, regrets, and sadness. It’s not easy to listen to him but I give him the time and consideration he needs. He wonders how I can do this.
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I can listen and not judge or give advice because I have learned at Callanish that these things don’t change anything for the better. They shut down the conversation. My goal is to encourage him to let go of his sadness and eventually come to accept his dying. I call this a ‘listening conversation.’
I am surprised by people I know who act like dying is no big deal. It’s like they think that my partner should just get over it. Maybe some people feel safe because death seems like something that will happen to them a long time from now.
It has been my experience that accepting dying is a process, but not an easy one by any means. At almost 80, and two diagnoses of cancer, I have been working on my own acceptance that I too will die one day.
A similar kind of listening conversation helps when someone has had a close family member die. They are in grief and want relief. I can’t bring their loved one back, but I can listen. I don’t say things like,“You should be grateful for the many years you had together,” or, “You must feel relieved because he is no longer suffering.” What is most helpful is to listen to their pain and their stories and perhaps share a cup of tea and a visit, or go for a walk on an ongoing basis, until the person establishes a new pattern of living. When my husband died suddenly, when my children were just two years old, I needed others to listen and not judge, and keep me company during the hardest times.
The more I listen during a conversation, the more I hear and learn about the other person. Their words give me clues about how they are thinking and feeling. It takes patience and time to build trust and rapport. It’s important to read the signals that other people show in their body language too. Some people don’t like to be touched or have you sit too close. I like to be close, but not everyone feels comfortable with that. It’s important to respect that.
When my daughter was eight years old, she asked me not to hug or touch her. She was scared of losing me to cancer and needed to protect herself. It’s been a long road that she’s travelled to make some changes in this way.
I have found that the more I listen, the better my conversations with others have become.
Mary Hatch attended her first Callanish retreat 26 years ago, later attending alumni, writing and ceremony retreats. Mary has participated in art, writing, meditation, retreat days and other offerings at Callanish, growing in self-awareness and empathy for others.