Suicide. Death from Suffering.

Through this online portal, I hope to serve and help others, share differing perspectives and discuss topics that are hard. Hard to process, understand and acknowledge; most of these topics are relevant in so many people’s lives and yet we shy away from collectively sharing our common troubles with one another. Many of my own assumptions, mistakes and pitfalls are part of the common humanity and I too have believed that I was the only person to experience them. It is only through a learned method of self-awareness and honest connection that I’ve come to understand most, if not all, of what I have felt in life has been experienced by the many. Today I will discuss suicide. Death from suffering.

Ashtanga Yoga

Suicide is to take one’s own life. I believe it is different from euthanasia and unique to humanity. As conscious beings, we take on a layer of existence that perhaps is not felt in the animal kingdom. An awareness of self, separation, judgment, expectation and often fighting our own true self in order to bury that which we cannot face.

I am a part of a beautiful, supportive and loving community of Yoga teachers and students. This particular community has been a Light in my life. They have loved and welcomed my daughter and I into the practice and it has taught me a great deal. The practice, Ashtanga Yoga, is thousands of years old and at my studio, it was brought by one particular teacher along with the many students (and teachers) he worked alongside with. I have been through tears and laughter in this community; moments of deep intensity and light-heartedness, as I slowly began my understanding of life again and again and again. Reshaping my perspective as I gained a deeper understanding of why we practice.

Sit, Feel, Acknowledge

A few days ago, I sat in silence meditating with dozens of students, teachers, friends and colleagues. We sat in the room where the practice had been held for years; daily, diligently and invitingly. In the darkness, we quietly came together to feel the loss of the head instructor of the Ashtanga Yoga program. We had learned of his death, that he took his own life, and there was no action or past experience to draw upon. How does one cope? We began with togetherness, holding space for grief, shock and an offering of peace to him and one another.

I Survive

There are opinions, assumptions, misunderstandings and of course, judgment when someone takes their own life. It shakes a belief system we all have; to survive. The survival instinct is a natural element of being human. It is built into us from the moment we take our first breath; a newborn immediately turns to their mother in order to begin the process it was born to understand. I survive.

Death from suffering occurs when a person sees no tomorrow. It is not selfish, nor is it weak. The belief that suicide is selfish comes from the ego; from the feeling of loss. We struggle to survive and when a person chooses to leave, it is common to feel anger. Blame. Guilt. The ego wants to find out why, feel angry that a person didn’t stay and even resentful that they did this ‘to us’. These are understandable feelings but I believe no one has a personal responsibility to live for anyone else’s happiness.

Courage and Suffering

It is our own responsibility to create our lives and understand that everyone has a wide spectrum of possibility within them (that we do not control). As soon as we personalize someone else’s experience, it becomes about us. Suicide is not about living or not living for someone else. It is a deep suffering that escalates to hopelessness. When one doesn’t have hope, they make a choice to dive into the unknown. Into the most feared place – death. It is, in some ways, incredibly brave however that courage was born from suffering so deeply that one believes any reality is better than the pain they are in. And so in that way, it is death from suffering.

Death from Suffering

When I was younger than I am today, I grappled with suicidal thoughts. I was admitted to hospital because the thoughts were more than thoughts. They were plans. I have been in that mental state on more than one occasion. In every instance, it has been a place of complete hopelessness. I could not see tomorrow. Anything other than my suffering was preferable because I did not see a way to escape it, fix it or move through it. That is when the darkness becomes complete; when any shred of light is lost and the doors are not only closed, they are gone. It may not be reality; there may be help and many that wish they could have helped had they been asked. I can tell you from my own life, when you are in the place of total hopelessness, you don’t reach out because that is a door. And you don’t see any doors. Only darkness.

When I was younger than I am today, I watched a friend take his life and die in my arms. We were the same age and both university students. Despite doing what I could to save his life, I felt his last breath, his deep blue eyes glazed over and as he exhaled, something moved through me.  His last breath was like no other breath I have ever had or witnessed. I held in the loss, guilt and grief I felt for many years. His name was Andre. He was, and is, a beautiful soul. He died from suffering.

Over time, I met my own suffering again and again, often bringing me back to the question of ‘should I end it’, followed by a reminder of what it felt like to be with him as he passed. Tragic. Horrific. The deepest loss. I have since met his incredibly courageous, kind and inspiring mother. It took us over a decade to find one another and speak. I read her book. We emailed. We met. We talked. His life was filled with meaning and still is; the loss of his life did not take away from the positive impact he had while living it. I talked about him with his aunt and people connected to him. I have ‘pieces’ of his life in my home to remember him. I try my very best to remember the good of his life, the lessons I learned from his mother and to be with the grief I still feel.

When I was younger than I am today, I received messages and emails from athletes who were on the verge of taking their life. I met friends for coffee who planned to end their life that night, leaving me to desperately try to convince them there is a tomorrow. We can create one. I spoke at length with many who had tried and I attended funerals of those who did. I saw many, many people who wore remnants of their attempt. I know many, many people who have lost family members because they died of suffering. To each of these people, I feel tremendously sad. I feel even more sad when I hear suicide being judged as an act of anything other than death from suffering.

I See You

I have been there. I have seen it. I have had it happen in my arms. I have slowly and cautiously talked people out of it. I will never judge the scars on your wrists, the charcoal you remember or the marks on your neck. I see them and I see you. Your suffering is not your fault. Someone else’s suffering is also not your fault.

When I think of my learning and practicing with this teacher, I remember one day he told me to watch my baby breathe. He said they breathe far better than we do. I watched my daughter’s belly fill with air, her lungs expand and her breath move through her entire body, as if it touched each and every cell within her. As I sit now, remembering him and reflecting on the loss so many are feeling, I can only breathe. There are no words; no making it feel better. No judgment; only sadness and compassion. A sense of wishing that his path was different and accepting that it wasn’t. When I remember the feeling of my friend’s final breath and watching my newborn breathe, I think it is all we can do in these moments. There is no need to move on, to let go or to take any action. The action is breathing. Feeling. Acknowledging the loss without judgment.

Be the Light

When I am older than I am today, I hope to understand and help on a deeper level. To speak more wisely and to see more authentically. To judge less and learn more. To know what to say and when to say it. To help those in the space of darkness and those who reside in it today because of loss. When I am older than I am today, I hope to be the Light. One of billions, but unique.

We have to feel and face this type of loss. It is, I believe, the most tragic way to die. It is not truly a choice in the way we typically define choice. The choice to take ones life is made because we see no choice; it is a lack of choice that welds the darkness into a solid shell. As an individual, community and fellow human being, we all feel the loss of another. I believe we can try, as best we can, to sit quietly with the courage to grieve respectfully and whole-heartedly; without judgment. We cannot turn away from those who took their own life, even if it shatters our own belief system. In shatters, we can still offer compassion and truthfulness. I see you. I have felt you. I’m sorry.

Ashtanga Yoga Winnipeg

Thank you to the community of Ashtanga Yoga Winnipeg and my deepest condolences to all of you. I also send my deepest condolences to the family, friends and huge network of students and teachers that are reeling from the loss of Jonathan Austman.

Thank you to the courageous souls who grieve, see and feel the truth of insurmountable suffering. Thank you for offering compassion to those we have lost and those who are still here. Suffering is universal. We know this. And so, in the aftermath of a tragedy of this nature, I encourage you to sit quietly and with courage. To breathe. To feel and accept; to know that with life comes suffering and our unrelenting compassion is our truest refuge for ourselves and for others.

Below are resources for individuals experiencing suffering of such magnitude that darkness is becoming a shell. We are here. You are not alone.

https://www.canada.ca/en/public-health/services/suicide-prevention/warning-signs.html

http://www.crisisservicescanada.ca/

http://klinic.mb.ca/

Sending peace to all those who have read this. Thank you.