Living & dying with passion
Yesterday, on the first day of November (ironically the “day of the dead” in many traditions), my good friend Guen Gifford died while paragliding in California. Most of us are still in shock, regardless of our spiritual beliefs or general optimism about life.
Guen lived a very thoughtful life – considering pros and cons, examining how her actions would affect those around her. She was one of the most thorough, pensive people I’ve ever known. (She did, appropriately, become an advocacy lawyer). But she didn’t allow thoughts of fear to get in her way. Especially when it came to her passions.
As I see it, she was passionate about three main things: economic justice, women, and paragliding (not necessarily in that order). I have known her since we were in our early 20′s, working together on community and women’s issues in Vermont. Starting in July of 2009, she took a year off from work in order to travel and experience a less-structured life. She had been of service at Law Line Vermont for over a decade, helping low-income people with legal assistance related to housing, family court, and public programs.
Over the years, Guen had been in Chile, Baja, Guatemala, and many other amazing places, hiking up mountains with her paragliding equipment and flying down like a bird. Photos of herself and others paragliding covered the wall in her office. When I think of her dying while living her passion, it seems so fitting, so perfect. She was experiencing a sense of freedom that she loved, something many people long for their entire lives. In this way, I am drawn to see beauty in her death. But is that just warped positivity? Am I desperately grasping for the bright side of a tragedy?
At the recent “Circles of Healing” retreat I attended, participants were asked to imagine the worst case scenario of their own death. I was actually quite shocked at the exercise, wondering if it made sense to put thought and energy into something that I didn’t want to call in to my life.
Then we were asked to envision our most ideal death, to see our surroundings, hear the sounds, smell the scents. We were creating the picture of an emotional sensation, answering the question “how do I want to FEEL when I die?” The opportunity to consider this was such a gift for many people in the room. Some of the feelings that surfaced for me were peace, joy, freedom, and a sense of oneness.
The common thread of the retreat was cancer, but this exercise focused on deeper truths, as does this news about Guen. Death is the opposite of birth, not of life. Everything that is born will die. Life, on the other hand, goes on forever. So can we somehow forgive death for existing, or even welcome it as a teacher? Can we recognize that the energy of life is eternal, even as we experience loss? How do anger, joy, grief, sadness, connection, and hope all fit together? Even asking these questions is a tribute to Guen – often questioning, always curious.
I have no idea what Guen would have said was her worst or best case scenario for dying. My guess is that at least one (or both) of these may have had to do with paragliding. I know that her adventurous and sharp mind, her open and inquisitive heart, and her calculated and carefree life all circled around love. And all I can hope is that love circled around her yesterday as she felt the air on her skin for the last time.
Even in these times, I strive to live as an optimystic. I believe that we can love life AND simultaneously embrace death, but that doesn’t make it easy or painless. Nor does it mean that I’m not mourning the loss of a dear friend who has taught me so many wonderful things about life. But I am grateful that she is now also teaching me about death, leaving us all with the ultimate metaphor: Guen knew how to fly and would encourage us to do the same.
Thank you, Guen. I can feel the wind on my cheeks when I smile, thinking of you.
Thank you so much for these words of wisdom at such a trying time. Beautifully said.
What a truly wonderful piece on beloved Guen. Thank you.
I never knew you, Guen, and yet as a paraglider pilot myself, I know your heart. All I can say is that when passion runs this high in a sport-and your life ends at the height of this passion-death does not take you, rather, eternity overtakes you. There are but a handful of people who have experienced what you have and never again question why birds sing. These people have experienced sufficient joy to have lived many lifetimes. I would mourn the loss but not the tragedy. Good hunting, Guen.
As I sit here on Friday afternoon November 6th after this very difficult week next door to Guen’s office, your words have been a comfort. Thank you for conjuring up Guen’s mind, spirit, passion, and fierce kind heart.
Thank you for a fine poetic tribute to a dear soul, on her journey, one she held true. She will never leave you. Now flying with angelic wings to a place beyond and within, her heart and yours. At the center of her spirit. She is paragliding in eternity, nowhere to land, and no need to. Her soul free of space and time. She is enjoying that flight, a lot right now. Don’t you think.
Thanks for sharing your perspectives on following ones passion and living fully in a conscious way. I have shared the experience of flying like a bird on a paraglider at the site where Guen had her last flight.
The Owens Valley is a place of big mountains , big air and big inspiration as paragliding pilots attempt to ride up thousands of feet in thermals that can feel like a bucking bronco at times. Tapping into this power of mother nature can at times be challenging and also offers a complete immersion in the moment with a sense of enhanced awareness.
I send prayers of sunshine and puffy clouds to Guen and her spirit of adventure. Namaste, John
Just got the call tonight.
Wow.
That crazy little girl in braids sure picked a heck of a way to go.
I haven’t known her well in recent years, but you have given me a wonderful opportunity to soar with her.
Thank you so much.
I am sorry I never got to meet her. she sounds so much like a peach.
I know exactly what she went though to her last breath. and i am glad she went with peace and love of life and flying.
now some will stop flying wondering when it will be ther turn to die or worse survive..Like me. I had a plane crash nose first froma defect and all thought it has been five yrs now I still have the passion and lov and joy of flying. I will take to my grave… When it is time too go I hope I am in my trike or plane and go in happyness and peace not peaces. like did but survived… Quen I feel sad for yoyr relativs you had to leave behind. but you death is not with out notice. it will be with us all to the end kind. we will be thinking of you ……sorry kid. wish I had met you. gary
This is absoluely amazing, thank you so much for writing this. I have made an album on my facebook page with photos of Guen and friends who I knew meant the world to her. I have not been able to come up with the perfect words to say but have tried so many different ways. What you wrote kind of puts it all in perspective and is very comforting. I am with you in your grieving process along with so many others. I don’t know if you would mind if I put a link to this site on my page with my album so that others who view my album can read what you have written as I truly think it is amazing. Feel free to contact me by email @ sugarbean503@hotmail.com or I am on facebook Rachel Corey Willey. Thanks and my best to you. ~Rachel
Thank You, Jen. I share your sentiments and appreciate the insightful comments.
Thank you for your beautiful essay. I hadn’t talked to Guen in awhile but spent several years with my office right next door to hers on Elmwood Ave. The memory of her daily thoughtfulness, the joy she experienced at shocking me on a regular basis, her mid-day naps and the pile of dirty dishes forever on her desk still make me smile.
thank you Jen for writing about such a free being…she has taught us through your words.
Much Love,
Britt
Jen, thanks for sharing such a wonderful tribute to Guen. Your words are a gift to Guen and us all. Much Love!
Amy
Jen,
I am so sorry for your loss. This is a beautiful tribute to your friend, who clearly led a passionate life full of purpose and meaning. Your thoughtful piece not only tells those of us who never met Guen what a difference she made in people’s lives but puts her death in perspective. It sounds like she lived life to the fullest and made the world a better place. I can’t think of a nicer tribute than what you’ve said here. From what you’ve described, she died doing something she really loved. I am sending positive energy your way, Jen.
Jeanne
Jeanne sent me a link to your website when she read my recent blog post about losing a close friend suddenly. Like you, although I am saddened by the loss, it is not the only thing I feel. My friend, like yours, lived her life to the full, doing what she loved and believed in and she inspired so many people. You wrote a really beautiful piece here, showing that death doesn’t have to mean “the end” – just beautiful… thank you.
Amanda
Jen
Your thoughts and feelings are especially heartfelt and inspiring for me this evening. I am recovering from a near death accident, 11/5. I am reminded to breath, love and live BIG!
I am happy that Guen shared her sparkle with you!
thank you Jen for writing about such a free being…she has taught us through your words.
Much Love,
Britt