On Thursday last week, while driving home from dinner with friends, I tuned in to a radio programme in which the hosts were having an interview with a death doula.
The concept of a doula is something I was first introduced to about 10 years ago, when my friends started having children. I have always known a doula to be someone who helps a pregnant woman prepare for the birth of a child, and provides information and emotional support during the birthing process for both the mother and father. It’s someone who provides comfort in a similar way that a midwife does.
A death doula, however, is a concept I was only introduced to more recently. I found out about it from respected trend analyst Dion Chang, whom I follow on social media and who himself is now practising as an end-of-life doula.
I’ve always found Chang interesting, since his days at Elle magazine. To me, his shift to his newest vocation demonstrates a versatility and capacity for reinvention and curiosity that could only serve to enrich one’s perspective and experience of the world.
But this column is not about Chang. It’s about the concept of having someone at the end of one’s life who would help to make that transitional period before death more comfortable – both for the one who is dying and for those closest to them – through emotional, practical and spiritual support.
The International End-of-Life Doula Association describes this type of doula as “a non-medical person who accompanies, educates and advocates for those who are planning for death, diagnosed with a terminal illness, or facing imminent death, and their circle of care.
“Doulas also support people and communities who have experienced a sudden death. Doulas offer resources to help the dying person and their circle of care to make informed decisions in a supportive environment.”
As I listened to the interview on the radio, not only did the explanation of the process sound soothing and comforting, but it also made me reflect on just how death is often regarded with anxiety, resistance and anger, as though it’s not a natural and inevitable part of life.
The reverence, preparation and acceptance we show around birth are not similarly observed for death.
This discomfort, I’ve come to realise, stems from our deep reluctance to accept our own mortality, yet it is precisely this that makes us human rather than supernatural. It’s the knowledge of a beginning and an end that gives our experience of life its depth and meaning.
I think often the trouble comes from the affinity and feelings of attachment we develop for the world and the people in it. The prospect of leaving them behind induces a sense of fear and panic.
A few weeks ago I wrote about people’s resistance to the ageing process and how that too is underpinned by the anxiety of being reminded of one’s mortality.
As I learn more about doulas, I’m consciously making an effort to take all these things into consideration and examine feelings that are rooted in fear, and how they could potentially be a hindrance to experiencing life in all its fullness. DM
This story first appeared in our weekly Daily Maverick 168 newspaper, which is available countrywide for R35.
