Eastern Market, August 2018
I’ve been working on illusion busting this week, finding more places where my eyes have been turned away.
March Against Mass Incarceration, Lafayette Park, August 19, 2017
Last week, when my friend Suzanne and I were walking out of the Conservatory of Flowers in Golden Gate Park to catch the bus back downtown, we came across an island of dahlias in the middle of the parking lot. We were filled with excitement and joy at the outrageous effulgence. In the past, I’ve never had any particular feelings one way or the other about dahlias, though I knew that gardeners can get completely obsessed with them. This exuberant showing gave me a flash of insight as to why dahlias can inflame passion and dedication. It was a sweet reminder always to be open to new wonder, even from things we have previously experienced and thought we knew.
It felt good to sleep in and still wake up at my usual 6am. I did my morning practice, went to meeting for worship, joined in at a fundraising lunch for Pakistan flood relief, looked at the Truth Beauty exhibit at the Phillips, took a walk in the neighborhood, and then took a short nap. Then I took one of my favorite walks in the neighborhood — from my house to House of Hands, the home of my neighbor, friend, and wonderful massage therapist Patrick. As you can see, the sun was setting as I walked to a 5pm appointment. In honor of the change of seasons, the heat was on the massage table. Nice. It was dark when my massage was finished, but I had hot soup for dinner and am looking forward to my evening meditation and practice. I do not have many days that are this luxurious and free of commitments. I enjoy them to the fullest when they come.
National Museum of the American Indian (just across the Mall from my workplace)
I have a set of cards that I keep on my altar that are designed to be used for contemplation. There are about fifty cards, each of which has a sanskrit word and its meaning. Just as one gets a fortune cookie randomly or picks a tarot card from a deck, but the message often seems right on point, the word that arises from the card picked from the stack often seems uncannily timely. Early Saturday morning, after not having used the cards in a few months, I picked a card from the middle of the stack to see if it would help guide my contemplation and meditations as I was getting ready to say good-bye to Becky. The word on the card I picked blind from the middle of the stack was “moksha” or liberation. In classical yoga, moksha does carry with it the implication of being liberated by transcending body and mind.
Later on Saturday, when I was on my way home from teaching for the appointment with the vet, I stopped at the metaphysical supply shop for a piece of rose quartz (to use in a ritual to assist with the transition and loss that a friend taught me). At the check out were “dolphin saying cards.” There was a sign next to the cards inviting customers to take one for free. The sign also said that it was not necessary to take the one at the top. The cards were face down; I did not look for a particular saying. I dug a few cards down, and the one I selected read: “freedom has its roots within yourself.” In other words, “moksha” for the second time on this day, when I was facing with Becky her transition of the spirit from the body.
Was it a message? Was it a coincidence? I do know that I knew when it was time, as I did with Henrietta. Becky just did not want to be embodied anymore. When I held her in her arms after she stopped breathing, she was released and relaxed in a way she had not been in months. That the signs were saying “moksha” resonated with Becky’s power and connectedness. I hope that when I am ready to go, I will truly understand moksha, that I will be released. It is so resonant of Becky’s life, for all her quirks, that she was still teaching me even as she was dying.
