An Eggy Ending to 2020

One thing that has become strikingly evident while living with COVID this year is the profound impact of meditation and my spiritual journey, which I embarked on long ago. Without these practices, I would undoubtedly feel much more overwhelmed, akin to being like scrambled eggs. Right from the onset of the pandemic, I adapted to the new reality with ease, much like how I've learned to embrace the changes in my aging body. This newfound acceptance has brought about a stronger bond with my partner, resulting in less friction and greater freedom, as I've learned not to cling to expectations of things being different than they are in the present moment. Amidst the challenges, I managed to safely visit my family and even immersed myself in a 10-day Vipassana retreat, finding solace in solitary reflection. In a world where gyms were closed, my partner and I turned to hiking outdoors, exploring beautiful places. During one of these hikes, I stumbled upon a serendipitous discovery - a golden egg, seemingly placed there as if it were an artistic masterpiece hidden away from the beaten path. My near-death experience during this time served as a profound wake-up call, shaking me to my core and motivating me to make meaningful changes before my time on this planet comes to an end. Reflecting on my journey, I now realize that it involves reconnecting my consciousness with the universal consciousness, transcending the confines of my own self. Although this notion may sound abstract, the feeling is ineffable; it's akin to being enveloped in pure love, free from fear and the memories of emotional or physical pain. This transformation has had a profound impact on my decision-making process, especially in my relationship with my partner. The significance of this change was not entirely apparent in the past, but now I understand the importance of "eggs"amining what we have at this very moment. As a side note, the golden egg we found during our hike measured about 7" x 12", even larger than my head! Its discovery was a symbolic reminder of the preciousness of life's unexpected treasures.

 

What Won’t We Get Done?

Patiently sitting in the house of a stranger, it quickly becomes the familiar like the appearance of a slightly different movie set. It is your house in a different life or dream. You try not to interfere, but you know damn well it could be you in that bed, and these supposed strangers ...are your family. They are very considerate, you could feel their immense love for their friend and each other. The chanting was beautiful, halfway through profound wailing was heard and it took all my strength to remain calm and present with these emotions conveyed. I did not look or connect to see it who it was. I did not feel uneasy, only my heart was trying to reach out of my chest.


A man is dying...and his wife prepared the walk with flowers to greet the nuns with love when we arrived. In my head, I say this is beautiful, but private, so I stepped far away from their path. Suddenly the door opens and his wife bows to the nuns. I had asked earlier if I should stay in the car until they felt a need to have me enter, but they had no idea what was the status when we arrived. They were hoping my stroke experience would help him…just pure intention.

It really happened fast to him, and there was no time to plan. I won’t go into too many details out of respect. I walked outside to get some air and to pet the cats that had waited patiently near-by, sensing that something was up. A half hour later a man walked outside and we talked, me breaking the ice with an explanation why my voice was bad after I commented about the trees on the hill.  I asked, “Is that a tree house way up there?” I listened to what he had to say. “No, it is only the sky peaking through the trees.” Then easing into some of my story, because of his preplexed reaction to my voice. In the process, I reassured him that my near death left me with no fear and detailed the experience. The worries most of have about wanting more life in this body are only born out of the fear of the unknown.  I saw his red eyes clear up some and forehead relax knowing it what he heard was no bullshit. I encouraged him to meditate soon, to see what how we really think, and spend time alone with your mind. Without vocalizing it, I conveyed that difficult times are a catalyst for change. More fear will release naturally that you have been carrying around all these years. A good half-hour spent talking with total honesty, in a relaxed way.  Letting him lead where this conversation went.

It was time to leave, and talking with the nuns who I drove there, and unknown to me I was speaking to that family member who had cried earlier. My jaw dropped, that the same person who really needed my compassion had found it their own time in their own way. Instead of any kind of awkward, forced or fake sympathy I would have offered in the past…it just happened organically.

 

I knew I had to go to Mozart Brain Lab therapy and the puzzle that I was close to finishing was on my mind. It triggered something before arriving...We will always die with unfinished business.  So, I decided to stop it and just feel the emotions of this small symbol of death, right now. I would normally finish it, and look for some small sign of accomplishment... energetically. So this is not like me. As the session ended, which I did in meditation posture instead doing a puzzle or some other brain connection game and we moved to hearing chants to seal the therapy and relax the brain, I broke down. Not that it wasn't expected or embarrassing. I wanted to wail, but tried to keep it down, with the others clients in other rooms out of respect. Some was what remains in my body from my life experience and it can be expected. Could be that experience earlier, helped to access the things that need to come out. It was combined with a very frank discussion by a close surgeon friend, during the previous night’s dinner, talking about his clients generally to me about death. In a moment of silence and with complete honesty said, “No one really dies peaceful... unless I say, ‘good-night’ alluding to seeing them in the morning and then they pass with relaxation. This is why I think it is always about others, making them happy,” with a furrowed brow.