It is the seventh day since my brother passed. I’ve passed through something, perhaps carried with him like a scarf. It is said that when a person dies, they circle around Mount Everest, known in Nepali as Sagarmatha and in Tibetan as Chomolungma. I feel that now, feel myself dropped as he moves on.
I feel myself as a grain of sand on a beach with other grains of sand. The tide has moved in and out. I’ve been wet and dry, but now I just am. There is a neutrality in me now. It’s not numbness or distress. In this moment, I am rest, a grain of sand on a beach with other grains of sand, not wet or dry, only grateful that I’m part of a whole.
In this Holy time, death and resurrection are celebrated. For now, this Saturday, I rest, not pulled one way or the other; I am rest.