Tuesday, August 6, 2013

"Mankind will die." - Mortician


     I've decided to pursue a career as a mortician. This wasn't a recent decision at all, but I'm going to write a  blog about it for a couple reasons. One, by making a public declaration, I'm verifying to myself that it's a valid goal and worth pursuing. Two, it is kind of an odd career choice, and while I don't think it needs to be justified, I've been asked why I'd want to do that, so I'm going to lay it out and demystify it for myself. The idea came to me a couple years ago, and while I never really forgot about it, it went onto the back burner while other things were going on, so I don't want that to happen again, either.
     One of the simplest reasons I want to be a mortician is that, frankly, it doesn't seem like a lot of people are suited for it. It's a necessary job, but not many people can do it. For this reason, as a career, it's very stable. It's a field that will never go away, will in fact only increase as our population still only goes up, not down. The money is good. I won't be rich, but I don't want to be. I'll be comfortable and secure.
     It's an honorable profession. It's time honored; preparing the dead for burial has to be one of the oldest  professions among humankind. I might rank it: prostitute, priest, undertaker. The line with a religious figure  might be somewhat blurred, as most burials are still religious ceremonies, I believe. But, in any case, I would be stepping into a grand tradition stretching back as far back as most anything in our culture. A mortician can also take personal satisfaction in their work. They provide a service for people in what is probably one of the most difficult times in their lives. A well orchestrated funeral can be a crucial part of the grieving  process, and the mortician plays a major role in making that happen. I would take pride and satisfaction in that.
      Of course, probably the biggest deterrent to the industry is the job itself: handling the dead. The physical  and emotional toll is too much for a lot of people. I think I'd be good at this. There's a couple of relevant  quotes I like. First, from Stephen King's Pet Sematary:
   "There's nothing natural about death. Nothing. You as a doctor should know that."[...]  ...he reflected on the last thing she had said and on the enormity of this difference of opinion, which had gone undiscovered for so long. Because, as a doctor, he knew that death was, perhaps except for childbirth, the most natural thing in the world. [...] Even sea turtles and the giant sequoias had to buy out someday.
And from the philosopher Martin Heidegger:
“If I take death into my life, acknowledge it, and face it squarely, I will free myself from the anxiety of death and the pettiness of life - and only then will I be free to become myself. ”
      These are close to some of my personal philosophies. I am very comfortable with death as merely a fact of life. I am not jaded and cynical, as some coroners and crime scene investigators become in the face of death. I'm just aware of it as reality. Death is the second most important thing you'll do, after being born. Circle of life! I don't mean to be glib, but that really is how I look at life. I support embracing pain and grief, fully experiencing them as part of being human. Many cultures around the world practice this, and are healthier for it. Our culture is stunted in its refusal to squarely face death, to hide from it and ignore it. Because it's coming for all of us, and everyone we love. I could even see how some would view that as a dark or even insensitive statement (like Rachel Creed in Pet Sematary), but it really isn't. It's just an accurate statement. And I think this world view, this personal philosophy, would suit me well as a mortician. Another emotional obstacle morticians face is the general public being put off by their profession. As I've mentioned, this works out great for me, as I prefer to be alone most of the time anyway. I'm an introvert and not very social. I keep a few close friends, but of course, a few close friends won't be bothered by what I do for a living. If my work facilitates that, all the better.
     As to the physical aspect of handling the dead, I just don't get bothered by things like that. I guess that's something you're just born with, sometimes, and also learned to a certain extent, but I could work with cadavers and not be "grossed out" by them or what have you. Modestly, my professional demeanor is also quite good and I feel like I could be comfortable and comforting when dealing with the bereaved, if need be. On a personal note, while I find human life to be a fascinating spark, the thing, funnily enough, that makes life worth living, once it has passed, flesh is flesh. That's how I see it. Our remains are nothing but a collection of bones and organs and flesh, and I would view their preparation as the art it truly is. I would take pride in the artistry of my embalming, the presentation of the flesh, each one a work of art; a work of art for the most critical and most important audience: the bereaved.
     As to how I will practically make this work: I don't like to discuss my current job much, just because I don't have much to say and they don't like to be discussed in public forums, but I work for a large retailer and I can take this job anywhere. It can support me while I pursue my dreams. There are very few schools in the country that actually offer a funeral science course, and one of them is, while not right up the block, close enough to work. It's in Cypress, in southern California. I will pursue a two year degree here, and look to transfer to the full time mortuary science program in Cypress. It's close enough that I can come in and spend time with my daughter on weekends and days off, and it's also just a stone's throw from Disneyland, so I'm sure she'd enjoy visiting me down there sometimes too. And, of course, I want to live next to Disneyland.
     Once I have my degree, I would probably move back up into the northern California area and begin to practice. In large urban areas, trained morticians can operate fully behind the scenes. They can handle and prepare the dead, and never have to deal with the bereaved at all. I will hone my craft in this type of environment, and later in life move far out into a more rural area. In small towns, morticians have to hang up a shingle and run the whole operation, which is great, because it plays into two of my other goals: owning my own business and living mostly alone in a secluded, rural area.
     And that's my long term goal. I think it makes a lot of sense. It's the first long term goal I've really had since, like, being a wrestler. It feels good. Now I'm just going to get out there and make it happen.

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