Not only is it Groundhog’s Day, but it’s February 2, 2022, so 2-2-22.
And if we pause at 2:22 today, we’ll be in a lineup with twosas though entering an Ark.
And with that, I bring forth Pema Chodron’s words from This Sacred Journey:
My children met the Sixteenth Karmapa when they were teenagers, and I asked him if he’d say something to them. I said to him, “The children are not Buddhists, so is there something you could say to them with that in mind?” He just looked right at these young teenagers and said, “You are going to die. And you’re not going to take anything with you except your state of mind.” You die, but your state of mind continues. So how we work with our thoughts right now really matters.
And right now I’m thinking of the number 2 as a place of balance and harmony.
My grandson turns two today. He has a brand new sweatshirt with red fire trucks and a beautiful, sweet smile that continues to encompass more and more.
My heart balances on the beauty of this little being and the loss of Bella which still provides an ache, and yet, I feel her here.
A friend mentions this quandary – her absence and presence at one time which may be the contemplating step out of duality. May this be so even as this child turning two walks into a future that cultivates peace and kindness, that honors the connections we share.
The day is clear and still. My cells come out like gophers their holes, look around. Hmmm!
Yesterday, the grocery store was filled with flowers, especially pale peach roses and white hyacinths. When I asked, I learned the bouquets were for the many graduations in the area.
I breathe in considering my own graduation. I’m awake, alive, celebratory for this 56th day of my brother’s passing. My brother loved the Yankees so I ordered Yankees cups to hold his West coast half of the ashes when we spread them at a surfing beach or two or three. The gathering is less than two weeks now. Will it bring closure, or opening out?
Today I feel him guiding me to open out, like a flower. The bud of grief has petals now, layers of them, open to the sun, and when it’s enough, they’ll fall apart, return to ground.
For now, I hold my petals open, receive and celebrate my central hold of light.
Yesterday at Baker Beach I sat and leaned against a log as I looked out at the ocean. Immediately I saw whale spouts and breeching and felt my heart rise and fall in sync with something more than a little self.
My friend Elaine Chan-Scherer planned part of her 60th birthday celebration as a gathering of friends to clean up the beach.
The beach looked immaculate but we set out with bags in a group that soon settled into units of two or three for deeper conversation and intimacy. Doing so, we began to look more closely at the sand. Yes, there were little pieces of plastic and cigarette butts.
With each bending down to pick something up was a realization and satisfaction that here was something that would not go into the digestive system of sea life. Up and down I went like a sandpiper on the beach pecking not for goodies but for the joy of being part of an ecosystem shared. Try it. It’s fun!!