Attending a funeral this morning reminded me of one of my street philosopher  epiphanies.  You probably have these, too—these personal bits of wisdom developed over time in the unfolding of life experience.  In this case, it’s a practical recommendation:  Attend a funeral every few months even if you don’t know the deceased.

A dear musician friend and I came up with this idea through years of providing music for over 500 weddings and some 100 funerals.   Weddings, we realized, can encourage personal reflection about such things as new beginnings, or how relationships—for better or worse—re-direct your life.  They can also surely prompt a check-in with yourself about all sorts of relationships, family and friends included.

But it’s at funerals where the ultimate chance for a new beginning, a life re-direction, and a self-check-in is offered.  You don’t have to be  particularly prone to contemplation to experience a funeral as an in-your-face reminder of what really counts in life.

When it really hits home is in the eulogies.  Without exception, the spoken eulogies can be humbling, touching, painful, heart-opening…  At minimum they stir feelings, frequently unidentifiable, yet often timely in their uncomfortableness.  Eulogies can also offer a great sense of relief.  How so?  As we sit gathered together, we  are in community hearing once again that what is really important in life are the things to which we all, in equal measure, have access.

We all have access to the kindest part of ourselves and to expressing that generosity of spirit to all we meet.  We all have access to sharing our gifts whatever they may be.  We all have access to participating in a sense of awe at our universe.  We can amuse others with an ability to laugh at ourselves and not take life so seriously. We can all practice being present for people and live our personal bits of wisdom by example.

Looking at this from the big picture, how beautiful that in celebrating the cycle of life and death at funerals we get to be reminded—at regular intervals if we choose to attend regularly—that it is not the proverbial number of days spent at the office or the money earned or the number of toys owned that leave the greatest impression on those whose lives we’ve touched.  What seems to matter, according the eulogies, is how you opened yourself up to be a conduit of love and compassion and how you allowed glimpses of the uniqueness that is you to shine through in a world that can test all our best qualities.

Funerals offer us a chance to re-prioritize our life and start again.  I can’t think of a stronger reminder.

“Sell your cleverness and purchase bewilderment.” – Rumi