Yesterday I went to say goodbye to another amazing human being. He had fallen to his addiction, in spite of a sterling intellect and absolute certainty that he would prevail.
He was wrong.
As I look back at his lovely service, and the people who spoke lovingly of him, I felt incredibly sad, but also proud for him.
Some people are not stellar humans. They are selfish and idiotic and really, at times one wonders at the universe's wisdom, 'What the hell? She's an IDIOT! What is the point, here???"
Onward.
He was kind, he was generous, he was brilliant. And he was sensitive. Very. Deeply. Which, as we all all pondered yesterday, created a perfect storm in which his addiction was able to prevail, at last.
There is a strange bittersweetness to services. We are there to bid adieu to a dear friend or loved one. In the process we reunite with those with whom we've lost touch, with those we appreciate after many years in spite of miles and time separating us.
Yesterday was that way. There was the bone deep sadness that we all felt. And there was a small joy derived from catching up with colleagues and friends whose lives are all full of children, of careers, of pressing on to be the best they can be. And there was happiness, too. We shared our stories, as those stories are unfolding right now, and we hugged. And we laughed. And we reconnected.
And we said goodbye to a truly amazing human who had, apparently, done what he'd come here to do and is now onto bigger and better things.
If you believe in that sort of thing.
Today I filled with predictable distractions. Errands. Breakfast out. Long walk. Qi gong. A nap. Cleaning. Study.
Tonight I need to relax into the fact that our friend has departed. I choose to do this with a gentle, white wine, and a movie designed to please the senses but not truly engage the intellect.
God speed, my friend. May your future be all that you dream it can be, and may you feel the lightness of being that so eluded you during your stay on earth.
He was wrong.
As I look back at his lovely service, and the people who spoke lovingly of him, I felt incredibly sad, but also proud for him.
Some people are not stellar humans. They are selfish and idiotic and really, at times one wonders at the universe's wisdom, 'What the hell? She's an IDIOT! What is the point, here???"
Onward.
He was kind, he was generous, he was brilliant. And he was sensitive. Very. Deeply. Which, as we all all pondered yesterday, created a perfect storm in which his addiction was able to prevail, at last.
There is a strange bittersweetness to services. We are there to bid adieu to a dear friend or loved one. In the process we reunite with those with whom we've lost touch, with those we appreciate after many years in spite of miles and time separating us.
Yesterday was that way. There was the bone deep sadness that we all felt. And there was a small joy derived from catching up with colleagues and friends whose lives are all full of children, of careers, of pressing on to be the best they can be. And there was happiness, too. We shared our stories, as those stories are unfolding right now, and we hugged. And we laughed. And we reconnected.
And we said goodbye to a truly amazing human who had, apparently, done what he'd come here to do and is now onto bigger and better things.
If you believe in that sort of thing.
Today I filled with predictable distractions. Errands. Breakfast out. Long walk. Qi gong. A nap. Cleaning. Study.
Tonight I need to relax into the fact that our friend has departed. I choose to do this with a gentle, white wine, and a movie designed to please the senses but not truly engage the intellect.
God speed, my friend. May your future be all that you dream it can be, and may you feel the lightness of being that so eluded you during your stay on earth.
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