Pondering My Deathday on the Day of My Birth by Jude Lally

Today is my celebration of being born into this world and in this life there is only one thing we can be truly certain of, and that is death.

I watch the first fingers of light streak across the sky it is an old ritual of mine at my birthday to gather my younger selves. The 5 year old joins, the fierce 13 year old, the 19 year old with her hunger for depth and meaning. The rest of them arrive until we form a circle of ourselves. It’s an odd ritual, a council of sorts. We look across at each other, for the each other is the one. Sometimes, just sometimes the old crone shuffles in. The younger ones are fascinated by the spider who appears to live in her hair and the arrangement of twigs that makes her hair look somewhat like a nest.

The teenagers recognize that wild look in her eyes, somewhat like a hares. When she shuffles around the circle, if you squint at her at just the right angle you can see her antlers.

Things changed as I turned 50, giving me a different perspective – like reaching the top of a mountain broadens your perspective out towards the horizon.

As the sun rises in the east it sets in the west, west being the direction of the soul after death on its final journey home. Fifty showed me the horizon, dawning that life really was finite.

As we cycle through the solar year we mark and celebrate birthdays and all manner of anniversaries, yet unknowingly we also pass our death day. I often ponder to what day this might picturing a ball spinning around a roulette wheel.

The Black Rabbit of Inlé from Watership Down

We live in such a death phobic culture there doesn’t seem room to celebrate death, to mark that final journey home and take time to consider our own death which in turn helps us focus on our life. Yet a death day is another day to celebrate our ‘self’, to celebrate all those in our individual lineages who have made that great journey and now exist as ancestors – to look at our lives with fresh eyes and perhaps plan a detour here and a reflection of our place in the thick of things.

How do I select my death date? Perhaps I count the number of crows in the tree, or the tines of the stags antlers…Whatever the date it is another invitation to sit with my past and future selves.

Meet Mago Contributor Jude Lally


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6 thoughts on “Pondering My Deathday on the Day of My Birth by Jude Lally”

  1. Brilliant insights Jude! For many years, I have imagined that my death day will indeed be my birthday. It feels right as I reach full completion of that last cycle.

  2. thank you so much for this Jude … it resonates with me at this time. I just celebrated my b’Earthday on the 21st March on the same day I celebrate Autumn Equinox. And I am at a place of reviewing my life, being back in my homelands and songlines, and as I meet physical wear and tear, and general degenerative ailments. Your essay here is very helpful. Interesting that you chose Rabbit for an image … I have a stone rabbit at my front door, and they used to call me Rabbit in secondary school, and my current Facebook profile photo has me holding a rabbit. 🙂

    1. Thank you so much, Jude. I never through about the idea that one of the 365 days we pass through will be my death day.
      I will definitely borrow the idea of gathering my several selves together on my birthdays!! Hope you had a wonderful council.
      Sonia

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