I went to a funeral yesterday of a young man I worked with. I thought of my dad telling me about growing old, much like my friend grew ill. We were standing out on my back deck - "I'm really not afraid to die, though I do dread the sting of death. But I have to say, I always believed I'd get out of it." He always laughed. And sang. He never stopped singing, I thought my co-worker would get out of it - at least for a bit longer. But we don't and that's part of the magic of this shimmering mirage - like this morning's spring frost, gone so quickly when the sun hits. But still, it was there and it was beautiful.
An old woman, who no doubt many of you will find out about eventually, if you keep reading our publication, Helen, used to say things like this.
It was often that I listened to her, hanging on her words, looking for the insight that she had. That guidance. I dont know that I would ever have made it as far as I have, if it were not for her. My mother was not so kind, not so just, and not so aware. Helen was far far more different, and if Im honest, Lindy, I lost her at a time in my life where she was most crucial.
Still, like you said above, she never stopped singing, or inspiring me, even after I lost her.
Your words, much like my meditations, strike the same feelings.
I would say that I dont cry or I feel anything when I meditate.
I went to a funeral yesterday of a young man I worked with. I thought of my dad telling me about growing old, much like my friend grew ill. We were standing out on my back deck - "I'm really not afraid to die, though I do dread the sting of death. But I have to say, I always believed I'd get out of it." He always laughed. And sang. He never stopped singing, I thought my co-worker would get out of it - at least for a bit longer. But we don't and that's part of the magic of this shimmering mirage - like this morning's spring frost, gone so quickly when the sun hits. But still, it was there and it was beautiful.
An old woman, who no doubt many of you will find out about eventually, if you keep reading our publication, Helen, used to say things like this.
It was often that I listened to her, hanging on her words, looking for the insight that she had. That guidance. I dont know that I would ever have made it as far as I have, if it were not for her. My mother was not so kind, not so just, and not so aware. Helen was far far more different, and if Im honest, Lindy, I lost her at a time in my life where she was most crucial.
Still, like you said above, she never stopped singing, or inspiring me, even after I lost her.
Your words, much like my meditations, strike the same feelings.
I would say that I dont cry or I feel anything when I meditate.
But then Id be lying.......
Thank you, Wendy, for this truly moving piece. Remarkable, lovely. 🌱
Every day Laura. Every day.
https://youtu.be/OpKM7kcBPzk