lately i've stopped finding the thought of my dead friends quite so painful. usually now it's joyful. the grief has been absorbed and the love it arose from remains. in love they are right here, alive, within me.
there is still pain. oh, there is still pain. over a year or so i lost the bedrock of my world to death, addiction, madness, and the simple flow of time. the dearest ones, gone.
i am the bedrock now. sometimes so content with my plants and my practice. sometimes lonely, aching to be seen, heard. friends stepped into the hole around me but for a long time i would dodge unconsciously: if i don't love you, it won't hurt when you go away. i saw this and held the weeping girl inside me, whispered to her softly that we love everyone, anyway, and everything goes. we sang sufjan for weeks "all thing go, all things grow, all things know...." it is better to know .
her heart began to thaw.
i watch myself speaking with joy of the dead and at times i feel judgment. part of my mind thinks that a good person would feel sad.
yesterday i let go of some classes that i have been teaching for a long time. so joyful! change! new opportunities to share! a flow of new energy! a couple of students expressed sadness. i responded with warmth, compassion. i saw them notice that i did not share their sadness. again, a bit of judgment toward myself that i did not share their sadness. then laughter, realizing that this was the nonattachment i have been striving for. i thought that the nonattachment grew faster now than the ability not to judge and shared this with the next class, laughing.
after the last class, one person stayed. none of my classes would fit her schedule now. three years, she said, she had been coming, and only to my classes. through many hardships she had come and always, she said, left feeling filled with light. her eyes grew damp, and mine. we laughed, and i encouraged her to explore. we said goodbye and she stood with me as i locked the gate. we smiled and walked away in opposite directions, poignantly but gracefully.
and then i let go and cried all the way home, sobbing in the street with my bicycle and my bags.
i cannot see myself. i can, and i cannot. how can i see my own eyes? how can i know my own mind? i cannot, do not, and can and do.
over time, i feel my mind move more slowly. i feel my peace grow deeper. i act more harmoniously with my ideals. kindness expands, judgements lessen. and yet it is easier to see the rocks in clear water. as i clarify, the weaknesses, the flaws, the unskillful places are all the more evident.
i walk, i breathe, i weep, i breathe, i keep walking.
the peony on the desk is drying now. while i was away she turned from pink to orange; came home to find her a flame of herself.
victor frankl said "what is to give light must endure burning."
everything is light; there is only light.
the flame feels no pain. the burning away of that which does not serve the light is what hurts, but this feeds the fire, which warms what is around it. there is only light anyway.