It was just after sunrise when I began to contemplate the term continuation. A little realization woke me up that grew to be quite b i g. It came down to breath, impermanence, and gratitude.
Thich Nhat Hanh says "we are a lovely continuation of
our parents, our ancestors, our lineage, our teachers, and loved ones. If
you look deeply into the palm of your hand, you will see your parents and all
generations of your ancestors. All of them are alive in this moment. Each is
present in your body. You are the continuation of each of these people."
I understand continuation when it comes
to birthdays, births, and weddings; happy occasions. But when someone I love, someone
our family loves, dies suddenly, leaves her body-I’ve been learning to
practice how to pivot from a well worn pattern of the life/death paradigm to that
of no birth, no death.
We’ve accepted this dualistic way of
thinking that creates a great divide with a host of feelings around loss. Here in body, physically, not here physically. Alive, not alive. -as if everything was
only real when our loved ones were here in the physical manifestation and that
they somehow cease and disappear when they leave their body. That’s not how I
feel deep inside about life and death.
And I found that Thay (translation teacher, Thich Nhat Hanh) says something similar...
And I found that Thay (translation teacher, Thich Nhat Hanh) says something similar...
… to die means from someone you
suddenly became no one. From something, you suddenly became nothing”. But nothing is like that.
A cloud, a forest, a volcano doesn’t become nothing. I am with my father, who left his body ten years ago, when I am in the produce aisle sniffing out the perfect peach or slicing vine ripened tomatoes from the garden, or cradling my head, fingers clasped at the nape of my skull to relax.
I am walking and chatting with Emylee in the forest in Oregon, gathering fiddle leaf ferns for dinner, savoring with delight our strong pot of Hojicha tea and a homemade sweet in the afternoon. There is only continuation.
A cloud, a forest, a volcano doesn’t become nothing. I am with my father, who left his body ten years ago, when I am in the produce aisle sniffing out the perfect peach or slicing vine ripened tomatoes from the garden, or cradling my head, fingers clasped at the nape of my skull to relax.
I am walking and chatting with Emylee in the forest in Oregon, gathering fiddle leaf ferns for dinner, savoring with delight our strong pot of Hojicha tea and a homemade sweet in the afternoon. There is only continuation.
Walking in the forest in Oregon |
When
I can transcend the notion of birth and death, there is freedom, there is
abundance of love and warmth because I am not separate just as there is no
separation between life and death. These moments are welcomed with tears and sometimes sadness but also great happiness to understand the impermanence of life. I embrace this moment much more. I value this moment.
Experiences
in daily life like a tragic event, a strong emotion, a personal loss can be
overwhelming but if I can remember three big things: breath, impermanence,
gratitude. To breathe deeply, slowly, expansively I can gain a wider
perspective and awareness. To remember, I am impermanent, we are impermanent
and when I remember I am
immediately grateful for this moment because this moment will never happen again and we are all a lovely continuation.
Breathing in to impermanence with gratitude.
Breathing in to impermanence with gratitude.
As I breathe into this moment of impermanence with gratitude, the tears are flowing. Thank you for guiding me to the spirits of the ones who have passed who are really ever present in our lives. Death is not the end as there is no end. Birth is not the beginning. They are only markers on Infinity. There is only Interdependence and Impermanence. Name Amida Butsu
ReplyDeleteThank you Impermanence. Because of you, every moment is special.
ReplyDeleteyes; grateful, grateful, grateful:)
ReplyDeletelooking forward to welcoming your son into our home. hoping that he will find some peace, and be able to breathe here in the islands. we live here knowing that we can breathe here, that we are just passing through and must take care of this place, and that we are so grateful. love to you and yours.
ReplyDeleteso grateful for the love and kindness of friends along the way…wide open spaces, the air, the water, the clouds-all very nurturing.
DeleteAs I am re-reading this, I am reminded of Simon's presence for 16 years and his spiritual departure that took a nano-second. I learned a lot from him. Because of the interdependence, the impermanence is so much more fulfilling and deep. The more I learn, the more connected I feel.
ReplyDeleteyes, i agree. i feel dad here, Lulu is here, Irie and Chelsea. Our new addition, Romeo, is a continuation of our dogs we are so lucky to have in our lives. sending photos soon.
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