Monthly Archives: September 2018

all is well

Big puffy cloudsSome epiphanies are hard to describe. And they don’t “make sense” – cannot really be understood by the thinking mind. They come unbidden, and can blindside you. So much so that tears spring to your eyes. Like the epiphany that came this morning as I was driving into town to run errands, seeing big, white, puffy clouds against the backdrop of a sky so blue it almost hurt my eyes to look at. Did the tears spring to my eyes because of the brightness, or was it something else that seemed to cause those tears? I don’t know, but I had to pull over. Gratitude filled me.

FloodingBut my mind flitted to thoughts of the storm slamming the Carolina coast, flooding, all of the lives in danger. Human and animal. The potential for lasting property and environmental damage. Scenes of the devastation happening all over the planet came to mind even as my eyes were squinting at the sky, tears pooling, and then sliding down my cheeks. My heart was bursting to be witness to such breathtaking beauty.

In that moment of contrasting scenes – the one before my eyes and the other in my mind’s eye – it became crystal clear that there is nothing wrong. Ever. End of story. All is as it is, and all is well.

The mind might exclaim “WTF?” – mine did, and it is of course free to do that – but despite its complaints and arguments (of which there are as many as there are humans walking the earth), it was clear, too, that the truth is that all is well.

This doesn’t mean that I cannot be involved in making things “better” – if I believe there is need of such actions. But beneath all of my actions, if there is even a hint of attachment to my belief that all is not well, unless or until “this” or “that” changes or happens, then I suffer. And I miss  (the word sin, btw, means to “miss the mark”) the incredible peace that passeth all understanding. The peace that is available to be experienced in any given moment, in all moments. That isn’t the result of anything I (or we) think or say or do. It stands alone, independent – not the result of anything – in glorious living color and every shade of grey in between. It is there, evident, in every breath taken, in every beat of my heart and every heart, in all that is – regardless of how the mind interprets all that is.

shit happens

If you are observant, you may have noticed that the last post on this blog was nearly two years ago… dated November 25, 2016. I didn’t know at the time I wrote that post that my 93 year old mother had just had a massive stroke, which left her paralyzed on the left side of her body. I soon flew down to Arizona (from Washington, where I live), to care for her. My 102 year old father was thin, frail and confused. My 65 year old brother was sick with multiple alcohol-related diseases. All three of them were under hospice care, and for much of my time caring for them, I slept only intermittently.

Over the next year+, most of my family died. My mother was the first to go, a week after her stroke, and my father the last, nearly 14 months later. In between them, my three brothers, an aunt and uncle, my son-in-law, a brother-in-law, and a friend also died.

shit happensI don’t share this to garner sympathy, but to state the obvious: shit happens. During the time I was a care-giver and administrator of estates for some of my family members, it was a challenge to find time to go grocery shopping, let alone post on this blog. But a lot of insights came to me, often in the stolen quiet hours of the night when my father was medicated enough to sleep through his Sundowning tendencies and I laid beside him, listening to his quiet, steady breathing. I hope to find time in the coming months to post some of these insights to this blog. Perhaps they will be as helpful for some of you to read about as they were for me to experience. That is my wish, and is – ultimately – the only reason I bother to write.

“The senseless sorrow of mankind becomes your sole concern.”
~Nisargadatta Maharaj

With love,