Saturday, January 26, 2013

this. that. and the other thing.

"man is born broken.
he lives by mending."
-eugene o'neill

there are always opportunities for mending. how we choose to mend them is what sets us apart. do we mend to conceal? or mend to embellish? or simply ignore it altogether and see the beauty in the wabi sabi nature of things?

over-winding an old wood spool with softly hand-dyed thread. new shape. i stepped on the scales this morning after thinking my jeans were feeling somewhat snug. i am feeling in a rather round mood today.

nicky is getting old and grey. he soon will follow my elderly ward beyond the veil. i have not really been sad. i do not cry when one moves beyond the veil for i know that "dying" is simply a transition from one state to another. for, as the buddha once taught us, "everything is changeable, everything appears and disappears; there is no blissful peace until one passes beyond the agony of life and death." loved ones will be missed. but there is truly no sorrow in their passing.

i read somewhere: don't cry because it's over. smile because it happened. this shall be my focus for a while.



  1. The caterpillar becomes the butterfly and it takes so many lessons that it has learned with it.
    Winter is for gathering/storing energies in...Spring, is a time (we can lose the excess)

    Peaceful mending to you!

    1. hmmmm....thoughts to munch on a while. i've often wondered if the flitting butterfly remembers much, if anything, of its days plodding along on the earth in a cumbersome body.

  2. I read your post on Saturday. I did not comment. I needed to let the words sink in. At first I recoiled, then I wished for the peace of letting go. I find that I can do this in solitude, but when shoved into the clan, my resolve fades. I have printed your post. I read it whenever I feel overwhelmed and it has brought me comfort and strength. I realize now that I mourn the loss of the relationship deeply. I am trying to change my focus to celebrating the relationship and being thankful for having it in my life. Thank you, Joe.

    1. your words are so touching, jeannie. i'm glad that this post has brought you comfort.

      it has taken me nearly three decades of practice to truly sit comfortably in the moment when great emotion strikes. we are surrounded by those who would whisk us along down this raging river of grief and loss. while the loved one (or anything, really, to one degree or another) may be gone, the beauty of what was still lingers and by remaining constant in the moment, we allow a spaciousness to wrap around us in which the joy and beauty of life can continue to enter into our awareness!