Sunset

The work of wisdom is to differentiate between what is skillful, and what is unskillful. ~ The Daily Tejaniya

My days continue to include bike rides and sharing with Fred. It has been two months and two days since Linda died.

We ride and talk. Most days we have a water break sitting somewhere or another.

We talk about Linda, about the loss we feel, about our lives that loom much smaller than they did decades ago.

Following this morning’s ride — taken in cloudy, breezy, chilly conditions — I read again from Ram Dass Here and Now #176 – Loving and Dying:

So, a lot of the work that you are doing in a lifetime is the preparation for the moment of death, and keeping death present enriches the moment of life. That the optimum way to be healed is the optimum way to die, which is your full consciousness. But your full consciousness listens, does what it can to preserve the precious human body, but also allows what is to be, and a lot of people lose it because they are so attached to which way it all goes all the time.

Like, I work with people that are having a slow illness, terminal illness, and they are losing their motor abilities and their control (sphincter controls and things) and each stage they lose, I watch some people who are able to open to the new stage and say, “Ah, so….” and those people don’t suffer. And then I watch somebody who looks at the shoes in the closet that they’ll never wear again and sits around feeling sorry because they can’t wear the shoes anymore. They’re holding onto the model of who they were a moment ago. A moment ago, they were somebody wearing those shoes, and now they are not wearing those shoes.

The minute you let go into what is, “Ah….”

The minute you hold onto the model of what might be, or what ought to be, or what should be, or what was: suffering. It’s that disparity that creates the suffering. So that any time there is suffering, it’s a clue to where your mind is holding, and that is why you keep using suffering.

We also talked about the story of the Two Wolves. From Wikipedia: It is a legend of unknown origin, commonly attributed to Cherokee or other indigenous American peoples in popular retelling. The legend is usually framed as a grandfather or elder passing wisdom to a young listener; the elder describes a battle between two wolves within one’s self, using the battle as a metaphor for inner conflict. When the listener asks which wolf wins, the grandfather answers, “Whichever one you feed”.

Fred spoke of the loss of Linda like a backpack that is weighing him down making it difficult for him to move forward. I suggested he might choose to set the backpack down.

Another quote from the Loving and Dying podcast by Ram Dass:

Maharishi, the saint, was dying of cancer and those around him were saying, “Don’t leave us. Don’t leave us.”

He looked confused and said, “Don’t be silly. Where could I go? I am just dropping the body. I am not going anywhere.”

And, so you realize that the grieving is part of the dramatic story line of your separateness, because you can’t grieve for something that didn’t go anywhere.

Perhaps the skillful action is for us to not try to get rid of the emotions and not try to carry the weight of the loss.

Last evening John and I were downtown St. Joe at sunset. The clouds were ablaze. Today on Facebook I saw a video of the same sky taken by our niece with her comment: “The sky last night was one of the most incredible ones I’ve ever seen. Some things just stir up the desire to worship the one who makes all of the beautiful things.”

I added: “And makes all things beautiful.”

Here are just two of the unedited photos of an extraordinary sunset.

Evidence.

Let those who have eyes see. Seeing beauty in what is IS skillful.