Lessons from Rotting Fish
By the Ganaraska River
Six of us walked a trail beside the Ganaraska River and found separate spots to sit and tune in with our individual questions for the land. I asked: What wants to speak, to be received and heard? The response came from a source I never would have expected…
I was initially attracted to a bend in the meadow pathway, leading out to the river. As soon as I made my way onto the grassy knoll beside the river, I smelt then saw several decomposing fish washed up onto the shore, their mouths gaping open, sharp teeth intact, one a skeleton without its head, another covered in mud draped over the edge of the river, its tail fin dangling in the water. Another was washed up onto the grass, its skin partially torn off or washed away exposing the pink rotting flesh.
I didn’t want to stay for the smell was almost unbearably putrid but I realized this was the place that called me, and I was to look squarely at death! I sat down, upwind to the carcasses, and began to listen…
We give our bodies to the land. At some point, it is all we have to give and we give in, having gathered memories or water, silt, river plants, stones and air. There comes a time to give this back to the earth, a fish-full life.
The slow rotting of flesh a long, surrendered letting go. No shame, just meeting and mingling as the memories are slowly, silently returned to the land. A fish-blessed land sings differently than one starved of the sea. Our bodies carried travelling songs that are passed on through our bones, back to the spaces in the land that welcome our bone-story-songs.
When you die, remember this — your decaying body is a gift. Do not shy away from its healthy stages of putrefaction. Your storied memory will release slowly into the land, each phase of decay a gift to where you are planted. Every memory freed is a blessing to the land.
Even in death, there is more your body can do, and then the decaying process is made holy, not repugnant, the earth folds into receive the stories, songs, and living memories.
