The Death and Life of Dr. Sara Halprin, Nov. 10, 2006
We are sad to report that Dr. Sara Halprin died early this evening. At 6.30pm Portland Oregon time, November the 10th, our good friend, best author, wonderful teacher, exciting filmmaker, amazing colleague, creative therapist, inquiring student and spicy being, Sara Halprin has died. Thanks to Herb Long, her best friend and husband for being with her, helping to facilitate the following interaction. He did this in so many ways through the period of her 8 month illness and death. And thanks to Amy for having recorded the experiences below.
After her death, we dreamed she wanted to “be useful” to the public; and as a result, decided to publish her final words, as they included her interest in being of use to all.
One of her last (semi) verbal exchanges occurred while being with her as she tracked altered state experiences, finally becoming a magical bird. She called it “The Mallard”. We think she might like it if others knew of her experience, and her bird.
Here is a reportage of those experiences (as closely as we can remember.)
Herb: Arny, I’ll put the phone near Sara’s ear. Go ahead and speak, she will hear you.
Arny: Sara, so good to be with you, to hear your breath, your voice.
Sara: Yes. Perhaps I should get more therapy.
Arny: Why not. What would you do with your life if you could.
Sara: I want my life to be a useful one, for everyone.
Arny: The best way to make your life useful in the moment is to track your experiences, very few people are able to do that and give it to others.
Sara: (barely audible but mumbling, gasping a bit) O.K. I can’t breathe too well, my heart is racing. My hand is jittering, jittering.
Arny: Herb and Sara, perhaps Sara can try to sit up just a bit, not too much, that may ease the strain on your breathing and heart.
Sara: (Breathing easier) Ah, that is better.
Arny: Sara, make little hand motions that go with that jitter
Sara: Ohhhh, mmmm. Now I feel relaxed. (quietness..)
Arny: What do you notice now?
Sara: Ohhhh, the neck, Arny, it is moving, jittering, now I’m falling away, falling backwards, like nothing.. falling into empty space.
Arny: If you fell somewhere where would you like to fall?
Sara: I am falling into nothingness.
Arny: Sounds ok. You can choose where you’d like to go. That might be your best medicine.
Sara: (after a few seconds) I can make a choice as to where I want to go? Now I’m losing my senses, I’m free and floating.
Arny: Just feel that.
Sara: I don’t know, I’m disappointed.
Arny: If you âre disappointed, that means you know where you want to go and aren’t . Would you like to go into the arms of something taking care of you? The Seashore? Or to Mars?
Sara: Someplace I’m needed.
Arny: You are very much needed..
Sara: OK, I’m falling backwards again, falling out and I’m a nobody and there’s a bird, the water’s edge.
Arny: What kind of bird?
Sara: It’s a pigeon, no, it’s a duck, ahhh, it’s a mallard! It’s a mallard!
Arny: You’re needed as a duck floating on the water.
Sara: Ohhhh.
Arny: Would you like me to sing you a duck song?
Sara: Yes, please.
Arny: (In Swiss German Alli mini Entli schwimmed uf em See, schwimmed uf em Seeâ€. (translated approximately into English) All my little ducks, swimming on the lake, swimming on the lake, put their little heads in the water, and their little tails up high. That’s a Swiss children’s song. Did you like it?
Sara: Ohhhh YES!!
Arny: Well, you are a duck, a mallard at the water’s edge.
Sara: Ummmm. Yes! And it’s head is moving back and forth. It’s amazing.*
Arny: Enjoy being a mallard, it was so good being with you.
Sara: Oh yes! Good Bye.
Everyone is silent.
Herb: Thanks Arny, and good bye.
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* Thinking back upon the experiences of this amazingly wonderful and lucid woman, we can say that what began as a hand-arm-body tremor, was from the inner viewpoint, apparently the beginning of the Mallard.
Natasha’s Last Performance

This picture of Natasha Docker was taken at her presentation of the story, ‘The Bird in the Fire’, Portland, Oregon June 2004. She completed that story January 1, 2005, ten days before she died. We wrote the following about her last process with us, because she wanted her work to be seen by others. We also wrote this up because some of the people closest to her at the time of her death, told us about how she moved back and forth between the left and right (life and death, see below) and that she died on the right side.
From the feelings of sadness and amazement, we immediately wrote this almost unedited letter January 11, 2005, to everyone on our local process work string. Many in the community had loved Natasha.
Natasha’s living and dying process. Thanks to Peter Irving and everyone for having cared so lovingly, honored and followed, danced and wept with Natasha as she went through her amazing dance. She dreamed about going back to a “Dreamtime Mob”, and described that to us as the process work community of friends, as you, those who have been so close to her and around her. She would like you to be honored, and so we are thank you all from her and our hearts. Thank you again for your loving, feisty, tender caring. At the same time, we must remain awestruck by the life and death of Natasha.
Dear Natasha, crowded together with 15 other people in your hotel room that January the first, we recall the following. There you were, here with us in Yachats, when we saw you ten days ago. You blew us away. We remember your warm greeting, then entering your hotel room, seeing you curled up in your seat waiting for us.
Then we recall working with you. You said that your process was “between life and death”. We remember beginning to work with you. True to your courageous seer’s spirit, we recall being detached but at the same time attached and amazed by your amazing physical and mental clarity and “wellness,” how you wanted to work on what you called the “struggle between life and death. ” We said, “Which way is your process heading?” You moved your hands together first to the right side –that was death, and then slowly to the left side —that you said was life. Then we asked you to follow your process and see what happened next. We all sat and meditated with you. Then you said, “oh…drugs make me slide”. So we said, “slide, slide, and slide”. And slide you did, over to the left into life!
“OK”, we said, “let’s get into life”. You said, “YES! And what about my creative project to present my story in theater form about “Bird in the Fire”?”
OK we said, that is your next step…but then following your amazing energy, we noticed you move. So we said, let’s get up and forget this death thing for a moment and get on with the theater. And indeed, with immense vitality, you arose to your feet, got your crutch, and then began to direct all of us who were stuffed into that little hotel room. How awesome.
What a choreographer!! You had us all stand. What a scene. Amy became you, moving through the forest. Many others played the trees in the forest. Arny was to be the ally, warrior. Amy moved hesitantly (as you) through the trees, met the warrior. Then Amy took Heiko’s yellow crutch, which you said was the golden tree that was to guide Amy through her journey through the dark forest with the help of her tree of light.
It seemed like the theater piece was done, but no, you as the director got right up, marched over to where Amy was standing upright, at the edge of the forest facing the Pacific ocean more or less alone, and you took her “golden tree”(the yellow crutch) and continued marching on forwards into time with a kind of pride and beauty. Standing in the room, we all stood in back of you while you were in front of us facing the sea. It is not saying enough to say that some of us were stunned and touched by your immense ability at moving through time and space so courageously with your golden tree shining the way.
Well, you said you wanted to produce this show for the community and everyone. Peter Irving was so good as to video the latter part of this work. And so dearest Natasha, that is why we are now giving folks a bit of a preview of your show, that we may all see it at another point in space and time, whenever.
May your golden tree be forever shining the way, and may it help each and every one of us still bound to the gravity of the earth, stuck in occasional darkness, needing that light of yours moving through everything and anything.
Thank you thank you dear one. We all love you dearly, and some of us have no sense of your passing, but of your being even more present than ever before right with us in this moment, with your golden tree shining and pointing the way for us, wherever it may go with us. In some senses you are further than ever, and in another, closer then ever. There is no substitute for giving you a hug, and at the same time, there is.
Thank you for your gifts.
Love amy and arny
Photo of Natasha painting taken by taken by Kara Wilde Kara@creativehealing.org