I’m lucky enough to be working within brief walking distance of a graveyard at the moment–and no, by that I don’t mean that I’m being worked to death, for all that my days can be busy and stressful.
No. The fact is, I love graveyards–they have always been a refuge for me. I often find myself gravitating towards them, stopping in for a quiet wander amid the bustle of my life. I lived across the street from a graveyard in Germany, and it was a frequent haunt (if you’ll pardon the pun) of mine.
Yes, they can feel a little sad, particularly when one passes the lovingly tended headstone of a child, or of a young person who predeceased parents and loved ones.
But overall, as I walk through, I feel a sense of peace.
At the most superficial level, it’s because graveyards are usually quiet, and have a serene, parklike aspect. But even at the deeper level, I actually love the sense of lives lived that I experience when I walk through. I read headstones and pause to wonder about who the people might have been, and what they might have seen over the course of their lives: tragedies, triumphs, joys and griefs. It makes me feel grounded and somehow connected to the past and to the rest of humanity, to see the rows upon rows of generations past.
I also love the sense of perspective it yields. Graveyards present a reminder of the cycle of life and death. I love that. Mortality is such a major part of what defines us: our gradual awareness of it, our resistance, and in some cases our resigned or serene acceptance of it.
In my previous post, I wrote about letting go. If, in many ways, one of the biggest lessons I need to learn from life is that of letting go, then death will present the ultimate version of that process of release. But it’s natural–and for many of us, at a deep level, it’s what allows us to cherish and appreciate life all the more. I hope to have lived my life deeply and well when my time comes.
A quiet walk through the graveyard is a favourite way for me to spend my lunch break (when I’m able to take a lunch break, that is!), because it puts everything else into perspective.
Diary of an Introvert 