Thursday, March 27, 2014

What I want:

I want my life to be full of color. I want the brightest colors to light my path. I want a green door and a yellow mailbox. I want my lamp to have a purple light bulb. I want music to push me around. I want the notes to urge my steps, helping me do the dishes and vacuum the halls.  I want the notes to come from the artists and from me. I want music always whispering to me, “Dance. Sing.”

I want a treehouse with a bookshelf and a two-person sleeping bag. I want a lantern to light the words on the page. I want books. Real books. Not a tablet with ePages and ePapercuts. I want REAL papercuts. I want to read poetry and hate it. I want a rope ladder to climb into my treehouse. I want to have sleepovers in that treehouse with my family, my kids, my grandkids. I want to have dogs that we pull up into the treehouse in a basket pulley-system.

I want to observe people. I want to come closer to the truth about us all, about human nature. Nature? Nurture? Does it matter? I want to befriend the elderly, the homeless. I want to ask them about their scars and hear their stories. I want to talk to and understand millions. I want their lives to change me. I want to change. I want to listen more than talk. I already know that.

I want my life to be present in my bones. I want you to be able to say, “She loved riding horses and playing lacrosse. She loved eating peanut butter. She loved playing basketball, look at that finger. She hated the cold and the hot but lived through both. She did not like seafood. She wrote. A lot. A blog maybe? She got migraines too. ”

I want to believe in angels and demons and ghosts and fairies and Peter Pan and Neverland. I want to reread Harry Potter every year with my family. I want them to believe in it. Put their hearts in it. I want to knock on wood and change paths when I see a black cat. I want to believe in reincarnation and talking animals.

I want to get mad and say mean things about people. I want to mean those things but have it not even matter. I want to hate things about people but love them unconditionally anyways. I want to be able to cry…hard and then get up the next morning and make others smile.

I want to never experience -45 degrees again. I want to remember Wyoming with fondness and a little pity and awe. I want to hate football and not care because others love it and I can share with them.

I want to go the extra mile but have it go unnoticed. I want to create light and life. I want to have nothing left at the end of my life. I want to die at 73. 75 at the latest unless there is something greater here than what awaits us all. I want to be sure in this life and not wait until the next. I want to hear, “Well done thou good and faithful servant.”


I want to not give a damn and I want people to not care that I don’t care. I don’t care. Stop caring. Let me have my purple lights, green door and yellow mailbox. I want people to mind their own business but notice when someone needs a hand. These are a few of the things I want.

Monday, March 24, 2014

Gratitude

Do you ever take a step back and just look at your life? At your past and present and just realize how thankful you are? For the most random things?

That is happening to me right now. I mean today sucked...first day back from spring break - kill me now - maybe that is why this gratitude is hitting me so hard right now.

  • I am thankful I am in Laramie, Wyoming
  • I am thankful I am studying anthropology
  • I am thankful this is my last full semester of undergrad
  • I am thankful for my family and the crazies they are
  • I am thankful for past relationships that are no longer - they "growed" me real good and without them I wouldn't be who I am now or have what I have now
  • I am thankful that those from my past are happy and growing too because even though it didn't last with us, someone deserved to have them and they deserved someone who made them happy and whole
  • I am thankful for my past. Period.
  • I am thankful for my now - that I can be a freak with him and not worry because I know he can accept me the way I am even though those from my past couldn't do that without reservations

  • I am thankful for new friends who I feel like I have known all my life even though it has only been a very short time
  • I am thankful that I have no idea what to do with myself but don't care
  • I am thankful that plans change - and people change too
  • I am thankful for the glory of sports

  • I am thankful I get summer this year for the first time since Summer 2011
  • I am thankful that it is my job and I get paid to share my talents
  • I am thankful I could have a dog that left such a huge gaping hole in my life when he died
  • I am thankful I could become a flaming redhead because I love being a redhead #redhairdon'tcare
  • I am thankful for the opportunity to create even if it is something as stupid as a snapchat drawing


Check it. What are you guys thankful for?

Saturday, March 8, 2014

"Death is not the passage of a line without thickness"

I am in a death class and my dog just died so here ya go....

1. “Death is not the passage of a line without thickness. Rather death is visualized as part of along transformative process.” Discuss.

            “It just so happens that your friend here is only mostly dead. There’s a big difference between mostly dead and all dead. Mostly dead is slightly alive. With all dead, well, with all dead there’s usually only one thing you can do.” These words spoken by Miracle Max about Wesley in the movie The Princess Bride (Reiner 1987) may seem outrageous and a little ridiculous, but they do indeed illustrate a truth about death. Very few things, if any, are discrete in the existence of humans. From skin color to languages to clothing styles there are frequent continuums. Death is the same way. Death is not an isolated event that happens in an instant. It is a process, a transition from one state to another. Both culturally and biologically, death occurs over time. The span of time between life and death serves a number of functions: to provide closure to the bereaved, to heal the wounds of society that death has created, and to provide safe passage for the deceased to the afterlife.
            The Olo Ngaju people of Indonesia have an extreme display of dying and passing from life to death. The nature of their funerary practices illustrates the thickness of the line that separates life and death. Robert Hertz writes, “it is not the custom to take the body to its final burial place; this move can only be made after a more or less long period of time” (1960: 29). Before that can happen, a series of temporary burial places and practices occur so that the deceased may experience safe passage to the next world. This long wait is partly so that the family and community can gather the materials and goods for the feast, partly because “the right thing to do is to wait for the corpse to have completely decomposed till only the bones remain” (1960:31), and partly because “death itself goes on till the performance of the last rites” (1960:50). In order to say the final farewell to the deceased, that individual must become skeletonized and the final feast must be performed, otherwise “the fear inspired by the proximity of death” will remain in the community (1960:50). “Death must be given its due” in the form of time and rituals “if it is not to continue its ravages within the group” (1960:51).
            Just as the body is not immediately laid to rest, the Olo Ngaju believe that the spirit of the individual “stays on earth in the proximity of the body, wandering in the forest or frequenting the places it inhabited while it was alive” (1960:34). This is because the soul does not immediately have a firm grasp on its place in the afterlife. It is only after the completion of the second funeral and a special ceremony that it will continue on to the “land of the dead” and hold a secure place there (1960:34). The series of funerals and celebrations are performed until the deceased’s soul can “provide for itself and taste fully the joys that the land of the dead have to offer” (1960:35-6). Thus even after biological death, the presence is still felt and very much alive in the community. It is only after the months and sometimes years of rituals and celebrations that the individual truly “dies” in the community.  This cultural behavior suggests something primordial we all sense about death and departure from among the living.
            Cultural death is not the only aspect of death that expands across long spaces of time. Even while the legal definition of death includes brain death, there are cases where that does not mean saying good-bye and burying the person in the ground. It is easy to think of death as happening in an instant when the individual stops breathing or their brain ceases to function but that is not the case. Those occurrences are not always the point at which they die and loved ones say good-bye. The thickness of this particular part of the line can be observed in beating-heart cadavers and brain dead patients.
             Mary Roach explores the concept of living “dead” patients who are kept alive for their organs in her book Stiff (2003). While at a hospital researching for the book, Roach meets H: “H is unique in that she is both a dead person and a patient on the way to surgery. She is what’s known as a “beating-heart cadaver”, alive and well everywhere but her brain… H the person is certifiably dead. But H the organs and tissues is very much alive” (Roach 2003:167-8). Despite parts of her being dead, she has not been drawn into the irreversible process of death because the doctors are keeping her organs and tissues alive for others in need. Before the advent of artificial respirators and the “use of patients who had what they determined was irreversible brain damage as a source of human organs” (Locke 1996:580) H could be both living and dead until nature took its course and she lost her grasp on life to become “all dead” as Miracle Max says. Now, even with the definition of death they have a foot in each door so that others might benefit from the life that remains.
            Roach also discusses the claims that even after the organs are harvested some part of the donor remains alive in the recipients. “If the heart of a brain-dead heart donor does contain something loftier than tissue and blood, some vestige of spirit, then one could imagine that this vestige might travel along with the heart and set up housekeeping in the person who receives it” (Roach 2003:189). There are accounts of recipients experiencing “some sort of contact with the consciousness” of the donor (Roach 2003:189). Is the donor truly alive in that person although they are clearly dead and buried or cremated?  Can a person be both living and dead?  Does survival of the organ associated with romance and sentiment (the heart) beyond the death of the donor raise a fundamental contradiction of the definition of death? It becomes difficult for families to decide to donate their deceased’s organs when there is not a defined point of death (Roach 2003:188) and when there is a possibility that part of their loved one may continue to live on with the donated organs. If they agree to allow the doctors to harvest organs are they, the family, responsible for the actual death? Will their loved one still exist, affecting the feelings and emotions of the recipient? Once again the definition of death raises troubling questions.
            Beating-heart cadavers and brain dead patients present a dilemma concerning the blurred lines surrounding death. “The confusion people feel over beating-heart cadavers reflects centuries of confusion over how, exactly, to define death, to pin-point the precise moment when the spirit—the soul, the chi, whatever you wish to call it—has ceased to exist and all that remains is a corpse” (Roach 2003:170). Margaret Locke also studied when death truly occurs with the technological advances of the day. If “a patient who is brain dead usually appears as though sleeping, the body is warm, skin color is normal, hair and nails continue to grow, [and] babies have been delivered from brain dead pregnant women” (Locke 1996:588) are they still “dead”? How can we call someone dead when they are still growing? Isn’t that a contradiction? Heart transplant surgeon Mehmet Oz says, “There’s no question that the heart without a brain is of no value. But life and death is not a binary system…In between life and death is a state of near-death, pseudo-life. And most people don’t want what’s in between” (Roach 2003:188-9). These individuals dwell in both the realm of the living and the realm of the dead. They have a foot in each door. Just how thick is that line between life and death? Far wider than we initially imagined.

            In similar circumstances as H, Jahi McMath is brain dead and on life support. Marlise Muñoz was brain dead but on life support until the end of January of this year. Thirteen-year-old Jahi is clinically and legally considered dead, but her parents have decided to keep her on life support (Huxtable 2014). Marlise was 33-years old and pregnant. Her doctors were legally “required to provide life-sustaining treatment” despite her family’s wishes that she be removed from life support (Huxtable 2014). How is it that Jahi’s doctors see her as dead but her family sees her as alive? How is it that Marlise’s doctors insisted she be alive while her family viewed her as dead? These cases show that even in the scientific age, something as seemingly “clean” as death is actually complicated and undefined.
          Anthropologists’ goal is to define and describe aspects of human culture. From the beginning, anthropology has attempted to explain the differences and similarities among humans. Death may not have received the attention that kinship, subsistence, or language have, but anthropologists have nonetheless devoted time to understand death. Death and dying is universal, but as has been shown, is not treated or defined the same between cultures or even people. Rather than neatly classifying death and dying, anthropologists have worked to understand the significance of the ways people treat and react to death. Anthropologists have used their tools like cultural relativism and participant observations to determine the meaning of death and the function of death rituals in the surviving community.
            For the family and loved ones of the deceased it is important that both biological and cultural death take place completely so that they can move on. Cultural death may happen when an individual is brain dead. Biological death occurs when the individual’s organs do not work and are not supported by machines. Only when these two deaths come together is an individual truly “dead”. Without both, they are only “mostly dead”. Some cultures readily acknowledge the different stages of death. Some choose to acknowledge and value the transition as in the case of the Olo Ngaju. Others have the view that death happens in an instant and there is nothing confusing or undefined about it. Whether there is an exact moment between the lungs ceasing, the heart not beating, the brain not sending signals and the burial where an individual truly “dies”, we may never know. But it is clearly important to experience both a cultural and a biological death before the wound in society can heal, we can say our final farewells and death can truly leave the living alone.






References:
Hertz, Robert
            1960 A contribution to the collective representation of death. In Death and the Right             Hand. London: Cohen and West

Huxtable, R.
            2014 McMath and Muñoz cases challenge definition of death. New Scientist. 15 January.

Lock, Margaret
1996 Death in Technological Time: Locating the End of Meaningful Life. Medical Anthropology Quarterly, News Series. 1996: 4(10):575–600.

Roach, Mary
            2003 Stiff: The Curious Lives of Human Cadavers. W.W. Norton & Company, Inc. New                         York, New York

Reiner, Rob, dir.
            1987 The Princess Bride. 98 min. Act III Communications.

Suzuki, Hikaru
            2000 Chapter Three: The Phase of Negated Death. In The Price of Death: The Funeral I            ndustry in Contemporary Japan. Pp. 60 - 90. Stanford: Stanford University Press.