Death and Dying
The practice is metta: loving kindness. It is my meditation and intention to give/receive metta. I don't always share this quiet dialogue I have with (my)self and other: we are one. I am fed, sourced, and inspired by the healing potential of touch, breath, and meditation. I witness people in their pain, in their seeking, in their dying, in their efforts to maintain, understand, control, surrender, to find some way to live in this human form with grace.
I see you, your family with those eyes of loving kindness. I am so grateful for the intimacy and the vulnerability I have witnessed. I feel honored to be in the room, to feel the vibration swirling under my fingertips, throughout the giving/receiving in the gentle, hushed tones and obvious gestures of love.
(Somewhere deep inside, I whisper- this is what I want: a partner, a family who has grown and birthed this existence, by my side, until...the end).
The end? What is this? This can't be it? Too young, too hard, too much, not enough... time/space/energy... but so much grace. Your faces are tired and your bodies worn. I want to extend my whole essence towards your daughter, sons and life partner... so I give it all to you.
I give you all my love. 100 percent. Witnessing your energetic flow. Connecting to your staggered breath. Responding to your own body's healing response to touch. Your gentle spirit, your mindfulness and careful attitude, almost like you are inviting me in as a special guest. And I think of this:
Are you looking for me? I am in the next seat.
My shoulder is against yours.
You will not find me in stupas, not in Indian shrine rooms,
nor in synagogues, nor in cathedrals:
not in masses, nor in kirtans, not in legs winding around your
own neck, nor in eating nothing but vegetables.
When you really look for me, you will see me instantly—
you will find me in the tiniest house of time.
Kabir says: Student, tell me what is God?
He is the breath inside the breath."