LEE KLINGER LESSER
Journeying with Charlotte through her Dying
Continued...
Weekly Classes in Charlotte’s Home in Muir Beach, California
When Charlotte came back to Muir Beach, we began giving Thursday night sensing classes in her living room. She was too weak to go to other places to give classes, but she was eager to give them in her home. Her living room made a great studio and she admired it quite a bit, often just sitting and commenting on what a wonderful form the room had. From February through March, Charlotte gave most of the classes. I was there to support her, as needed. She gradually became weaker and weaker. One of the last classes she gave was one of the richest classes I have ever been in with Charlotte.I usually came up early to have dinner with Charlotte. On this night when I arrived, Charlotte greeted me by exclaiming, “I could weep!” I was surprised by this greeting and waited to hear what more she had to say. She continued, “I could weep with joy at letting go.” And she did let go and sank, with a smile on her face, further onto the couch. She continued repeating this and sinking with delight onto the couch several more times. Then she said, “But it is not so simple. There is a place deep in my heart, which resisting. I have to get to know that place.”
Charlotte had been exhausted all day. I did not know whether she would give the class or not until people actually arrived and she began working with deep and quiet energy. We began with sitting. Charlotte asked us to lean forward and feel what lets go and what holds on. We worked with this simple and profound exploration for most of the class. Charlotte herself was actively experimenting with us….feeling it out for herself. I know that Charlotte was working with her own dying…feeling how to take another step closer…and yet she was also vividly working with us and how we each live. She worked with a question that was so acute and vital for her and for all of us – what lets go and follows what is needed and what holds back…how do we get to know what is holding back?
A Living Spiral
Charlotte’s journey towards dying felt like a living spiral…she would feel her way – moving out and then coming back again and then she would move away and then come back again. Each time moving a little further and further away. She lived with the changes happening in her and we accompanied her along the way.
For me the Thursday night classes were a great gift…different people came each week with many of the same people coming regularly. Gradually, Charlotte went from giving the classes to sitting on the couch while I gave the classes. She would often participate by ringing the bell or greeting people. After some time, Charlotte began to lie down on the couch, rather than sit. After a time, she stopped using her hearing equipment (Charlotte was very hard of hearing) because it was too heavy for her to have on her head. Then Charlotte began sleeping in class. At some point she would wake up and interact with people who had come. The next change was that Charlotte moved from the couch to the hospital bed, which was brought into the living room. So she participated in the class from her bed. She continued to sleep and at some point to wake up during the class. When she woke up, each person would come and greet her. Occasionally, Charlotte would still send out a crisp comment about someone’s extra effort or lack of presence. She surprised us all. In July for the first time, Charlotte slept through the whole class without waking up. This only happened three times, including the night that Charlotte died.
The classes were simple and direct occasions to be with whatever was happening just as it was …to meet Charlotte in her own changing world and to continue to find our own way to sense and be present.