Hospicing Humanity

image by Julia Soboleva

Before I began learning about death care, I was an artist (or band) manager—ultimately, a companion and advocate for them, much as I am now for people who are dying. I was especially drawn to musicians who used their art and platform to advocate for what they believed in. I have always felt a strong pull toward social justice and activism. When this path of death care began calling me, I didn’t immediately see the full picture.

Over time, I’ve noticed something striking: many of my contemporaries who once worked in the arts now find themselves called to this work of accompanying the dying and grieving, and of holding space for all of life’s “little deaths.”

This past year has been one of deep reflection—on how we can compassionately hold space for the collective grief that accompanies these times of great death, loss, and change.

May we build and nourish communities that become our places of refuge—where we can hold one another’s brokenness in safety and authenticity. This was the original meaning of hospice: a place of safety along the pilgrim way. Let us return to hospicing humanity in these ways, now and into the future.

May we apprentice ourselves to death. Begin simply: volunteer at your local hospice. Show up for a dying neighbor. Hold a ceremony for a dying tree. Honor the animal you find on the roadside as you would your own ancestor.

I believe that building communities which hold space for grief—through an intimate relationship with death—is an act of resistance. We begin by tending to the individual, but tending to the whole community is the sustainable response.