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Another Musing on the Fly When I was a kid, I loved the obituary section in the newspaper. First I would check the NBA box scores, of course, but then I would move on to the obituaries. I found them moving to see start and finish dates of life and how one's life was described in 500 words or less by a loved one. World War II veterans, postal workers, parents, mechanics. You never knew the life that you would encounter even at a young age. It would break my heart when a name was only fouled by a birth and death date. Always keep death before you, says the Rule of St. Benedict. I didn't know it at the time, but my reading of obituaries I was beginning to learn to meditate on death. As I moved on into adulthood, I rarely had easy access to a hard copy of a newspaper. But about 10 years ago, the idea sprung to mind to create a Google Alert Paul Swanson Obituary. So now, anytime a Paul Swanson around the world dies, I receive their obituary. It never fails to give me pause to see my name in print with a death date. Though I don't know any of these men, connected, only by the coincidence of name is enough to feel a warm kinship with their life. In my circle of relationships, I have really only known of one other Paul Swanson. I've never met him. He is 40 years my elder, but several of my friends had him as a teacher in their high school. To distinguish between this teacher and me, we called him the Famous Paul Swanson and me the other Paul Swanson. I would hear stories about the famous Paul Swanson, his contagious passion for scripture, a wilderness guide for canoe trips in the bountary waters, and I even founded a retreat center and canoe trip outfit called Adventurous Christians. A little on the nose, but I still love the name and that would become a holy place for me. My first chosen school of formation. When I was a 20 something college student, I would get emails from the seminary associated with my college asking me if I would be open to guiding canoe trips in the Boundary Waters where I could offer my wisdom and expertise to a group of young seminarians. With a wry smile, I would always reply with an immediate yes and my thoughts on the suggested canoe route. And then I would always include a postscript that said, I think you're looking for the famous Paul Swanson. I'm the other Paul Swanson. Recently I got a Google alert that the famous Paul Swanson has died. As always, to see my name in print like this in an obituary gave me pause, but with added heft to know of this man who had shaped and formed so many of my friends lives and me by proxy in a life of wisdom, of Scripture in the wilderness. A teacher of mine recently said, I've been waiting for a big death and I'm realizing it's going to be a series of small deaths. I believe this is true for all of us, sometimes physically, but most definitely spiritually. Each time we attend to the passing of a life, a limitation or a loss, we experience a small death. Each morning when I settle into my morning practice, I practice a small death, a surrendering over of all that I think I am or should be over into the merciful living hands of God, relying not on the life I try to protect and project. That is the life that requires many small deaths so I can learn to enlarge in the givenness of life that God ceaselessly pours out into me. We need reminders like rituals and practices or maybe obituaries with our name on it to enter into this everyday paschal mystery, dying to self so we can, like Barry Lopez says, fiercely and without embarrassment, say I love you and embrace fearlessly the burning world. I invite you, as these words end, to follow your living breath into the exhale of a small death, of all that you think you are, trusting that the breath of resurrection will be given. Sa.
Host: Paul Swanson
Release Date: January 2, 2026
In this reflective solo episode, Paul Swanson delves into the potent contemplative theme of mortality—how pondering one's own death and the deaths of others can become a daily spiritual practice. Holding a light-hearted yet profound lens, Paul weaves personal stories about obituaries, mistaken identity, and spiritual teachers, arriving at the importance of "small deaths" in everyday life as a path to spiritual growth.
“Always keep death before you.”
— Rule of St. Benedict, as cited by Paul ([01:19])
“It never fails to give me pause to see my name in print with a death date.”
— Paul Swanson ([02:12])
“I've been waiting for a big death and I'm realizing it's going to be a series of small deaths.”
— Paul's unnamed teacher ([05:12])
“Each morning when I settle into my morning practice, I practice a small death—a surrendering over of all that I think I am or should be...”
— Paul Swanson ([06:15])
“We need reminders... to enter into this everyday paschal mystery, dying to self so we can, like Barry Lopez says, fiercely and without embarrassment, say I love you and embrace fearlessly the burning world.”
— Paul Swanson ([07:25])
Paul’s delivery is warm, humble, humorous, and gently provocative—equal parts personal story, spiritual musing, and practical invitation. The episode flows conversationally, weaving anecdotes with contemplative teachings and closing with a gentle call to embodied practice.
For new and returning listeners alike, this episode stands as an understated yet profound reflection on how even the smallest passings—be they of people, identities, or illusions—shape the contemplative journey and open us to deeper love and presence.