I saw the most fascinating exhibition yesterday. It's been around the world and in several cities in the U.S. so many of you may have seen it but I've only heard of it this year. It's called Bodyworlds: the Anatomical Exhibition of Real Human Bodies. The creator, Dr. Gunther von Hagens, invented Plastination - "the pioneering technology that makes contemporary anatomical exhibits possible." Drawing inspiration from the anatomical drawings of the Renaissance he "replaces bodily fluids and fat in donor specimens with reactive fluid plastics" and then "fixes the specimens into dynamic, lifelike poses." You can see the Plastinates here. WARNING: NOT FOR THE FAINT OF HEART. You can also download a video.
Luckily I went at a time when it wasn't crowded so I was able to inspect everything closely for as long as I wanted. It was a spiritual experience to be in the presence of these previously living beings. And it was clear to me that our bodies are intricate pieces of matter and meat and when they cease to pump blood the lifeforce leaves and we are nothing more but humps of flesh and bone. Feelings, ambitions, thoughts, dreams, hopes, desires, pain, love all go away with that lifeforce. It was just so clear. So clear what an incredible mystery we are. What absorbs all of that? Where does it leave to?
Years ago my maternal grandmother, Elsa Cuba, died in my arms after a long battle with alzheimers and old age. I held her while whispering in her ear through muffled sobs that she could go, that we all loved her, and that it would be OK to leave us. She took her last breaths with me as I held her and then, suddenly, she slipped away. From one second to the next her lifeforce was out of her body and I could feel it not necessarily rising but expanding - it took up the entire room. Intuitively I felt that she was everywhere and that she was free from the confines of her broken, old body. It was such an immeasurable gift that she gave me, to allow me to be in her presence as she moved beyond her body and this world that we knew together. I felt her presence for a time in the room and knew that she wouldn't stay. Where did she go? A parallel universe maybe? Absorbed somewhere or did she hold together all of her experiences?
Seeing the Plastinates was like looking into a 3D x-ray. I look at myself with a new respect and perspective that I will never forget. A new perspective that reminds me of what my Grandma Cuba gave me. May she be thriving somewhere new.
Luckily I went at a time when it wasn't crowded so I was able to inspect everything closely for as long as I wanted. It was a spiritual experience to be in the presence of these previously living beings. And it was clear to me that our bodies are intricate pieces of matter and meat and when they cease to pump blood the lifeforce leaves and we are nothing more but humps of flesh and bone. Feelings, ambitions, thoughts, dreams, hopes, desires, pain, love all go away with that lifeforce. It was just so clear. So clear what an incredible mystery we are. What absorbs all of that? Where does it leave to?
Years ago my maternal grandmother, Elsa Cuba, died in my arms after a long battle with alzheimers and old age. I held her while whispering in her ear through muffled sobs that she could go, that we all loved her, and that it would be OK to leave us. She took her last breaths with me as I held her and then, suddenly, she slipped away. From one second to the next her lifeforce was out of her body and I could feel it not necessarily rising but expanding - it took up the entire room. Intuitively I felt that she was everywhere and that she was free from the confines of her broken, old body. It was such an immeasurable gift that she gave me, to allow me to be in her presence as she moved beyond her body and this world that we knew together. I felt her presence for a time in the room and knew that she wouldn't stay. Where did she go? A parallel universe maybe? Absorbed somewhere or did she hold together all of her experiences?
Seeing the Plastinates was like looking into a 3D x-ray. I look at myself with a new respect and perspective that I will never forget. A new perspective that reminds me of what my Grandma Cuba gave me. May she be thriving somewhere new.