What do you think?
Rate this book
Awake at the Bedside: Contemplative Teachings on Palliative and End-of-Life Care
This book isn’t about dying. It’s about life and what life has to teach us. It’s about caring and what giving care really means. In Awake at the Bedside, pioneers of palliative and end-of-life care as well as doctors, chaplains, caregivers and even poets offer wisdom that will challenge, uplift, comfort—and change the way we think about death. Equal parts instruction manual and spiritual testimony, it includes specific instructions and personal accounts to inspire, counsel, and teach. An indispensable resource for anyone involved in hospice work or caregiving of any kind. Contributors include Anyen Rinpoche, Coleman Barks, Craig D. Blinderman, Bhikkhu Bodhi, Joshua Bright, Ira Byock, Robert Chodo Campbell, Rafael Campo, Ajahn Chah, Ram Dass, Kirsten DeLeo, Issan Dorsey, Mark Doty, Norman Fischer, Nick Flynn, Gil Fronsdal, Joseph Goldstein, Shodo Harada Roshi, Tony Hoagland, Marie Howe, Fernando Kawai, Michael Kearney, Elisabeth Kubler-Ross, Stanley Kunitz, Stephen and Ondrea Levine, Judy Lief, Betsy MacGregor, Diane E. Meier, W. S. Merwin, Naomi Shihab Nye, Frank Ostaseski, Rachel Naomi Remen, Larry Rosenberg, Rumi, Cicely Saunders, Senryu, Jason Shinder, Derek Walcott, Radhule B. Weininger.
368 pages, Kindle Edition
First published May 24, 2016
132 people are currently reading
827 people want to read
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 15 of 15 reviews
September 17, 2016
This all began when Koshin Paley Ellison’s Grandma Mimi—certainly the most adorable character in this book, and perhaps the wisest—asked if he could look after her while she stayed in New York. One daughter wanted her to move to an assisted living place in Atlanta. Her son wanted her to move to Syracuse. But she wanted to stay where she lived and worked; she was still going into her law office full time at 83. I don’t find it surprising that she asked. What seems astonishing in this day and age is that her grandson said yes. Not only did he help her with occasional visits to doctors, then late-night ambulance rides to the hospital, but he moved into hospice with her during the last six weeks of her life.
I’m full of admiration at such devotion. It was her suggestion that Koshin and his husband Chodo start “an organization that helps people learn about meditation and how to care for people.” The two men changed their lives and started the New York Zen Center for Contemplative Care. Thus their life’s work and, indirectly, this book.
The story of Mimi—two pages of expert storytelling—really includes the whole message. It’s while they’re in hospice that she says, “Do you know what’s strange? So few people who work here, or visit, seem to reflect on their own lives. They’re all scurrying about. Why don’t they look at me? Why is there so much fear in being with another person?”
Good question. I suspect that in this case the reason had to do with the fact that she was dying, and that they would be facing death (though one might think they’d be ready to do that, since they worked in a hospice facility). But that isn’t the only reason. Just look around.
What she found was that Koshin and Chodo were present with her in a way that other people could not be, and she credited their meditation practice. She had been prejudiced against it before, because she thought it went against their Jewish heritage, but saw the value of it over time. Everyone who practices knows that not all Buddhists are terribly present, just because they’re Buddhists. But these men apparently were.
I’d love to tell the whole story of this remarkable relationship, but I’ll leave the rest to Ellison. I do think that everything you need to know about caring for the dying is in that two-page preface. You could read that and skip the rest of the book.
But don’t do that, because you’ll miss a great deal of excellent material. Ellison and Matt Weingast have done a remarkable job of collecting teaching that is helpful of end-of-life care. Everyone is here from Elizabeth Kubler-Ross to Ram Dass to Issan Dorsey to Shodo Harada to poets like W.S. Merwin. (And I should mention for full disclosure that there is a chapter I worked on myself with my teacher Larry Rosenberg, from Living in the Light of Death.)
All of the teaching in this book is helpful, but it seems apparent when people are reciting teachings they’ve heard somewhere, as opposed to telling lessons they’ve lived. The lived lessons are always better. I would also say—something I’ve told writing students for years—that the most effective thing in any kind of teaching is telling stories, or letting people tell their own. We learn more from stories than from any number of “wisdom” teachings. I’ll remember Grandma Mimi long after I’ve forgotten passages of scripture.
What becomes apparent is that the most important thing in end-of-life care is physical presence. Some of us are more present than others, but even if it’s difficult for you, even if you can’t be as present as you’d like, physically being there is the most important thing. And you don’t need to bring anything. It would actually be preferable if you didn’t. People who try to bring wisdom to someone who is dying are usually just talking over them, giving them something they don’t want. What’s important is to watch and listen, and find from them what they need. I vividly remember Larry Rosenberg describing his mother’s death bed, how when he told her just to let go, that it was all right for her to go, she clutched his hand all the more fiercely, but when he told her what a wonderful mother she had been, how much her whole family loved her, her grip relaxed. So much, he said, for preaching the dharma to his dying mother.
The problem with reviewing an anthology is that you want to mention every piece you liked. I put check marks beside the pieces I especially liked, and found I had checked two-thirds of the prose pieces (I liked all the poems, which are scattered throughout), so I won’t be able to mention everything. I hate to focus on this one couple, but the other story that moved me the most is by Ellison’s husband Robert Chodo Campbell, who works as a chaplain in a New York hospital. (This piece is featured in the current issue of Tricycle.)
Campbell was confronting a situation that seemed difficult but common: a 62 year old Puerto Rican man was dying with cancer and had actually accepted it, but his wife of forty years, three months, two weeks, and three days (she was counting) was not. She wasn’t a close-minded person; when Campbell admitted he was a Buddhist priest, not Catholic—after she had called him Father—she said, “That’s okay, Father. The Lord has sent you to us.” And he, for his part, didn’t worry about the dogma of Buddhism. He was happy to join hands and pray with them, for relief of Marcelo’s suffering, and for God to watch over them both in the difficult days ahead.
With great skill and sympathy, Campbell was present with this situation, listening to the two of them, allowing Marcello to be the one to explain what he meant when he said, “I want to go home and be with my father in his garden. . . . I won’t be sick when I am there. I will be happy, and I will be waiting for my darling Maria, but she does not have to rush.” It was because Maria loved her husband so much that she didn’t want him to go. It wasn’t fear that was in the way for her. It was love.
Campbell is actually present with Marcelo as he dies, and doesn’t summon Maria, because there isn’t time. He asked the doctor and a nurse to stay while he prayed for Marcelo, and had a moment of silence—“It was the first time I saw a doctor cry”—and he stayed with Marcelo long afterwards. His presence was important even then.
“If you have ever been in the room at the moment of someone’s death, you have probably experienced the shift in energy that occurs and sometimes remains for minutes or hours afterwards. I call it the Silence of the Leaving. …
“Within the silence that follows the final breath of the dying person is the certainty that something is occurring. In the nonmoving movement of air in the room one senses a deep, deep loneliness and at the same time the connectedness of everything.”
I respect Buddhist teachings and well-known Buddhist teachers, and was not surprised at the excellent selections from Judy Lief, Rodney Smith, and Norman Fischer, but the most moving stories in this book were by people I had never heard of, like Kirsten DeLeo, Betsy MacGregor, Fernando Kogen Kawai, Frank Ostaseski, Rachel Naomi Remen, and Ira Byock. The editors of this book have put it together with the same care that they take over the dying. It’s a vital book for those interested in dying, and in living.
www.davidguy.org
I’m full of admiration at such devotion. It was her suggestion that Koshin and his husband Chodo start “an organization that helps people learn about meditation and how to care for people.” The two men changed their lives and started the New York Zen Center for Contemplative Care. Thus their life’s work and, indirectly, this book.
The story of Mimi—two pages of expert storytelling—really includes the whole message. It’s while they’re in hospice that she says, “Do you know what’s strange? So few people who work here, or visit, seem to reflect on their own lives. They’re all scurrying about. Why don’t they look at me? Why is there so much fear in being with another person?”
Good question. I suspect that in this case the reason had to do with the fact that she was dying, and that they would be facing death (though one might think they’d be ready to do that, since they worked in a hospice facility). But that isn’t the only reason. Just look around.
What she found was that Koshin and Chodo were present with her in a way that other people could not be, and she credited their meditation practice. She had been prejudiced against it before, because she thought it went against their Jewish heritage, but saw the value of it over time. Everyone who practices knows that not all Buddhists are terribly present, just because they’re Buddhists. But these men apparently were.
I’d love to tell the whole story of this remarkable relationship, but I’ll leave the rest to Ellison. I do think that everything you need to know about caring for the dying is in that two-page preface. You could read that and skip the rest of the book.
But don’t do that, because you’ll miss a great deal of excellent material. Ellison and Matt Weingast have done a remarkable job of collecting teaching that is helpful of end-of-life care. Everyone is here from Elizabeth Kubler-Ross to Ram Dass to Issan Dorsey to Shodo Harada to poets like W.S. Merwin. (And I should mention for full disclosure that there is a chapter I worked on myself with my teacher Larry Rosenberg, from Living in the Light of Death.)
All of the teaching in this book is helpful, but it seems apparent when people are reciting teachings they’ve heard somewhere, as opposed to telling lessons they’ve lived. The lived lessons are always better. I would also say—something I’ve told writing students for years—that the most effective thing in any kind of teaching is telling stories, or letting people tell their own. We learn more from stories than from any number of “wisdom” teachings. I’ll remember Grandma Mimi long after I’ve forgotten passages of scripture.
What becomes apparent is that the most important thing in end-of-life care is physical presence. Some of us are more present than others, but even if it’s difficult for you, even if you can’t be as present as you’d like, physically being there is the most important thing. And you don’t need to bring anything. It would actually be preferable if you didn’t. People who try to bring wisdom to someone who is dying are usually just talking over them, giving them something they don’t want. What’s important is to watch and listen, and find from them what they need. I vividly remember Larry Rosenberg describing his mother’s death bed, how when he told her just to let go, that it was all right for her to go, she clutched his hand all the more fiercely, but when he told her what a wonderful mother she had been, how much her whole family loved her, her grip relaxed. So much, he said, for preaching the dharma to his dying mother.
The problem with reviewing an anthology is that you want to mention every piece you liked. I put check marks beside the pieces I especially liked, and found I had checked two-thirds of the prose pieces (I liked all the poems, which are scattered throughout), so I won’t be able to mention everything. I hate to focus on this one couple, but the other story that moved me the most is by Ellison’s husband Robert Chodo Campbell, who works as a chaplain in a New York hospital. (This piece is featured in the current issue of Tricycle.)
Campbell was confronting a situation that seemed difficult but common: a 62 year old Puerto Rican man was dying with cancer and had actually accepted it, but his wife of forty years, three months, two weeks, and three days (she was counting) was not. She wasn’t a close-minded person; when Campbell admitted he was a Buddhist priest, not Catholic—after she had called him Father—she said, “That’s okay, Father. The Lord has sent you to us.” And he, for his part, didn’t worry about the dogma of Buddhism. He was happy to join hands and pray with them, for relief of Marcelo’s suffering, and for God to watch over them both in the difficult days ahead.
With great skill and sympathy, Campbell was present with this situation, listening to the two of them, allowing Marcello to be the one to explain what he meant when he said, “I want to go home and be with my father in his garden. . . . I won’t be sick when I am there. I will be happy, and I will be waiting for my darling Maria, but she does not have to rush.” It was because Maria loved her husband so much that she didn’t want him to go. It wasn’t fear that was in the way for her. It was love.
Campbell is actually present with Marcelo as he dies, and doesn’t summon Maria, because there isn’t time. He asked the doctor and a nurse to stay while he prayed for Marcelo, and had a moment of silence—“It was the first time I saw a doctor cry”—and he stayed with Marcelo long afterwards. His presence was important even then.
“If you have ever been in the room at the moment of someone’s death, you have probably experienced the shift in energy that occurs and sometimes remains for minutes or hours afterwards. I call it the Silence of the Leaving. …
“Within the silence that follows the final breath of the dying person is the certainty that something is occurring. In the nonmoving movement of air in the room one senses a deep, deep loneliness and at the same time the connectedness of everything.”
I respect Buddhist teachings and well-known Buddhist teachers, and was not surprised at the excellent selections from Judy Lief, Rodney Smith, and Norman Fischer, but the most moving stories in this book were by people I had never heard of, like Kirsten DeLeo, Betsy MacGregor, Fernando Kogen Kawai, Frank Ostaseski, Rachel Naomi Remen, and Ira Byock. The editors of this book have put it together with the same care that they take over the dying. It’s a vital book for those interested in dying, and in living.
www.davidguy.org
February 13, 2016
This book is meant to make hospice care the very best that it can be. Bringing in "chaplins, doctors, Dharma teachers, poets, and many different caregivers" along with the authors, the book hopes to enlighten us on what it means for pallative and end-of-life caregivers to successfully treat the whole patient and not just the outcome. It is a very important and valuable book, indeed.
I cried several times reading this. My grandma was in a home for "medicare" patients (those who couldn't afford the nice places). She was 104 when she finally was too sick and weak to eat or swallow. For 8 days, because she could not afford a hospice, she was starved to death. She had no food, water, feeding tube...only an I.V. and enough morphine so she would not moan. She felt pain every time the nurse and aid tried to reposition her. They weren't kind and made us "step out of the room". I could hear the agony in her voice up until the very last day when her veins were drying up and disappearing before my very eyes. I feel guilt, shame and helpless every time I think about it (all of the time). No doctors came to check on her. Most of the staff didn't even know she was dying!
I'm so glad the founders of the very first hospice wrote this book. This extremely important and valuable book should be assigned to all med students: will be doctors, nurses, nursing assistants, so they will treat the dying like real people that they are, and not some "duty" or a part of their "job" that they dislike. It should also be in the hands of all retirement homes that elderly poeple live in: all of the employees should read it. We all are going to die someday. I hope it is with dignity. I am so very grateful to have read this book, and will read it again!
Thank you to Koshin Paley Ellison and Matt Weingast, the authors, Wisdom Publications and NetGalley for giving me a free ARC copy of this book to read and give my honest review.
I cried several times reading this. My grandma was in a home for "medicare" patients (those who couldn't afford the nice places). She was 104 when she finally was too sick and weak to eat or swallow. For 8 days, because she could not afford a hospice, she was starved to death. She had no food, water, feeding tube...only an I.V. and enough morphine so she would not moan. She felt pain every time the nurse and aid tried to reposition her. They weren't kind and made us "step out of the room". I could hear the agony in her voice up until the very last day when her veins were drying up and disappearing before my very eyes. I feel guilt, shame and helpless every time I think about it (all of the time). No doctors came to check on her. Most of the staff didn't even know she was dying!
I'm so glad the founders of the very first hospice wrote this book. This extremely important and valuable book should be assigned to all med students: will be doctors, nurses, nursing assistants, so they will treat the dying like real people that they are, and not some "duty" or a part of their "job" that they dislike. It should also be in the hands of all retirement homes that elderly poeple live in: all of the employees should read it. We all are going to die someday. I hope it is with dignity. I am so very grateful to have read this book, and will read it again!
Thank you to Koshin Paley Ellison and Matt Weingast, the authors, Wisdom Publications and NetGalley for giving me a free ARC copy of this book to read and give my honest review.
September 7, 2025
Really beautiful collection of stories and essays. Was moved to tears by multiple. Will return to this I'm sure. Read for the Zen Center.
June 20, 2020
This book was recommended to me by my teacher Bhante Dhamikka when I was doing gerontology studies. It gives range from perspectives on death and dying from different writer including doctors, those involved in palliative care, spiritual teachers of mostly Buddhist but also Christian faiths. There were many touching stories of family going through the last stage with their loved ones, and the reconciliation and acceptance that often came in that process that the writers had experienced.
My key takeaways are:
-The importance of listening, equanimity and being present with the dying, and their caregivers
-The importance of having our own Dhamma vision - and that this would be an evolving meditation on living and dying
-The importance of meditation as a way to observe the rise and fall of every moment, as this gives us a sense of dying -moment to moment.
-That everyone has a shadow (of avoidance), and that acceptance is a light that can dispel that shadow.
-All of us, including caregivers and medical professionals experience internal conflict at some point in caring for the dying, and that it is the concept of non-self helps. We do not need to congratulate ourselves when the person gets better or blame ourselves when he does not. We just try our best be be part of the process.
-That Suffering gives rise to compassion
-That learning to die is to learn to live
The most important take-way for me is to remain calm and equanamous as I would be able to support my parents better as they age. And also my brother who is so sensitive and caring towards them. He will need my support and me being there for him calmly.
My key takeaways are:
-The importance of listening, equanimity and being present with the dying, and their caregivers
-The importance of having our own Dhamma vision - and that this would be an evolving meditation on living and dying
-The importance of meditation as a way to observe the rise and fall of every moment, as this gives us a sense of dying -moment to moment.
-That everyone has a shadow (of avoidance), and that acceptance is a light that can dispel that shadow.
-All of us, including caregivers and medical professionals experience internal conflict at some point in caring for the dying, and that it is the concept of non-self helps. We do not need to congratulate ourselves when the person gets better or blame ourselves when he does not. We just try our best be be part of the process.
-That Suffering gives rise to compassion
-That learning to die is to learn to live
The most important take-way for me is to remain calm and equanamous as I would be able to support my parents better as they age. And also my brother who is so sensitive and caring towards them. He will need my support and me being there for him calmly.
October 24, 2021
"How do we think about death? How do we think about the dying? What's the current state of palliative and end-of-life care, and how can we improve it? And how do we give care without becoming emotionally and spiritually depleted? In Awake at the Bedside, pioneers of palliative and end-of-life care, as well as doctors, Dharma teachers, chaplains, poets, and caregivers of all ki9nds -- including Elizabeth Kubler-Ross, Cicely Saunders, and Derek Walcott -- offer insights on incredibly challenging questions like these.
"This book isn't about dying.
"It's about life and what life has to teach us."
~~back cover
This is a very slim volume, an advanced reader's copy/abridged sample, and I think it was a very small sample. There were some good ideas in the book, and some very practical suggestions, but I came away with the sense that a lot was missing.
"This book isn't about dying.
"It's about life and what life has to teach us."
~~back cover
This is a very slim volume, an advanced reader's copy/abridged sample, and I think it was a very small sample. There were some good ideas in the book, and some very practical suggestions, but I came away with the sense that a lot was missing.
June 10, 2017
There are a few good articles included, but overall there are better books to have by the bedside. Overall, I'd say this isn't geared towards the average person attending a loved one, but more towards hospice & medical professionals. Many of the articles feel more distancing than otherwise.
December 9, 2017
Working in palliative care, this book gives a lot of insight about providing end of life care and how we as healthcare providers should always be mindful of giving individualistic and wholistic care to patients and their family.
December 27, 2021
Fantastic- one of the best books on living & dying for humans doing the dying, being with the dying or afraid of the whole scene. Multiple authors and perspectives.
January 4, 2023
skimmed. some of the essays were too much about buddhism or too didactic. My favorites was thevKubler-Roth essay.
July 27, 2023
Awake at the Bedside is a compilation of poems, teachings, and stories by people engaged in caring for those who are dying and their families. Many articles look to ministry to the dying from a Buddhist perspective, emphasizing the value of meditation and intuition.
Early in the book, Dame Cicely Saunders wrote of her early vision of hospice care in an article called, "Watch With Me".
The best part of this book was the many stories that gave meaning to the teaching sections. The most limiting was the emphasis on a zen approach, particularly for those who don't share that vision.
Good life affirming stories and others that dealt with trials. But overall the book centered heavily on contemplation which I found of limited value.
Early in the book, Dame Cicely Saunders wrote of her early vision of hospice care in an article called, "Watch With Me".
The best part of this book was the many stories that gave meaning to the teaching sections. The most limiting was the emphasis on a zen approach, particularly for those who don't share that vision.
Good life affirming stories and others that dealt with trials. But overall the book centered heavily on contemplation which I found of limited value.
February 26, 2020
Wonder observations from Zen Buddhist partners and very good collection of poems and various viewpoints on Death care.
July 21, 2016
Somehow I didn't realize this book was a collection of short "essays" and poems. The "Contemplative Teachings" component of the subtitle is key. Some chapters were moving or thought-provoking. Others emphasized Zen Buddhist teachings that I disagree with.
Ultimately, I didn't gain a whole lot and ended up skimming multiple sections. I suppose this would be worthwhile to have as a Palliative Care-Provider or when walking into the season of death yourself or with someone else. I would only flip through to find personally relevant things at that time though. The majority (if not all) of the essay contributors appeared to be Buddhist in their persuasion, which is fine, but it does flavor their perspective in a different way than Christianity impacts my perspective on death.
If you're Buddhist, a caregiver, or really interested in reading end-of-life books (as I seem to have been within the last year or so), pick it up and flip through. Otherwise you're not missing any keen insights (as you are missing if you don't read Being Mortal ;).
I received a free advanced copy of this book courtesy of the publisher and Net Galley.
Ultimately, I didn't gain a whole lot and ended up skimming multiple sections. I suppose this would be worthwhile to have as a Palliative Care-Provider or when walking into the season of death yourself or with someone else. I would only flip through to find personally relevant things at that time though. The majority (if not all) of the essay contributors appeared to be Buddhist in their persuasion, which is fine, but it does flavor their perspective in a different way than Christianity impacts my perspective on death.
If you're Buddhist, a caregiver, or really interested in reading end-of-life books (as I seem to have been within the last year or so), pick it up and flip through. Otherwise you're not missing any keen insights (as you are missing if you don't read Being Mortal ;).
I received a free advanced copy of this book courtesy of the publisher and Net Galley.
December 9, 2016
Every so often I acknowledge that I have passed the anniversary of my death and am filled with fear, panic and anxiety. This collection of essays, which could easily be read over and over again, is lovingly written by hospice practitioners with an emphasis on Buddhist (vs Christian) spiritual awareness at the end of life. This is a valuable resource during the periods of anticipatory grief and while letting a loved one go. Because no two periods of grief and loss are ever experienced the same way, I do plan to review these readings when the time of helplessness consumes me again.
September 13, 2016
Very much geared for readers who are Buddhist. Beautiful choices of poems to accompany the texts. Thoughtful work for people who are caregivers to the chronically or mortally ill.
Displaying 1 - 15 of 15 reviews