November 10, 2012 by blogmasterjdeam
I have noticed so many delightful things on my journey toward happiness. Here is one: I was able to quit Prozac forty days ago. I didn’t realize how much it flattened me out. I am not by any means making a comment about anyone else who needs Prozac. It is a worthwhile drug, and as I am now prone to say: whatever gets you through the night.
On November 11th, it will be four years since my sister Ann wrapped up her work here on the earth and left her body. The pain of losing her ran so deep I needed whatever I could get to hold the pain in check. Now, I find, I can embrace Ann for the million or so gifts she gave me, bless her for being in my life for the 47 wonderful years I got to know her, and have those years we had together, be enough. We give what we can. When we can’t give anymore, when our bodies are worn out, we move to another form to continue our work. But we really haven’t gone anywhere. I talk to my sister nearly everyday. I feel her presence in the work she did while she was in her physical form. She has simply changed form.
There is a story about a great Guru in India who is dying. His devotees are with him, crying, begging him not to die. He says to them: “Don’t be silly, where could I go?”
As I approach this anniversary, I know there is nowhere Ann could go. Her essence is with me always, even though she is not in physical form, I feel her in my heart. Our love transcends all space and time, and that too becomes an entity unto itself.
My mother also died when she was 47 years old. For so long I felt I couldn’t talk about her death with anyone. When asked how she died, I hedged, stalled and was unable to say “why do you need to know?” Now I can say, my mother took her own life, and that too, was perfect. There are many ready to rush to judgment on this one. Some people have said some truly awful things to me about my mother’s method of death, perhaps based on what their religion has taught them. I understand now, when others feel the need to pass that judgment, their words come from a place I can’t pretend to understand, and, as part of my coming awake I recognize they are simply doing their Karma. Their need to judge my Karma, or the Karma of my mother, has nothing to do with me. It is their need, their Karma. What I know, I know. My mother, sister and I will meet again and again, because: where could they go?
As part of my journey, I have grown so that I can hold the pain, suffering and loss of those I love. I used to hide from the pain, unable to bear it. I can now open to the pain, knowing we all suffer, knowing life itself is suffering. I have vowed not to add to the suffering, not to stick my head in the sand and pretend it doesn’t affect me: if one person suffers, we all suffer. We are all connected. There is no “us” and “them.” We are all one.
Thank you for reading these words today. It is important for me to get them on paper (as it were) and out in the open. I know, absolutely, the only cure for suffering, pain and loss is love. It is the love that comes from the heart. A love unlike any other. We must grow this love, water it, give it sunshine, prune it – all the things that make love grow. Without this love, the night becomes endless.
Yours with great love, Chris