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I was seventeen.  Life was becoming more complex.  I had nowhere to turn but to God.  My parents were wrapped up in their school life.  Mom was a high school teacher.  Dad was a counselor at the same school.  They were all wrapped up in their own careers.  They did not notice how uncertain I was about life.  I was a good student, was becoming a good cook, and had some respectable extracurriculars.  I didn’t look like I needed help.

The way home was narrow.  Darkness enshrouded us.  A few lights in the distance flickered here and there.  I hoped the jeep did not break down.  I hoped the lions stayed away.  I hoped the giraffe were not on the road.  I hoped the hyenas were safe in their dens.  It’s not safe to be riding around in the dark in Lewa, Kenya, as we were doing.  But the elephants we had seen at sunset were magnificent.  So were the stars in the heavens.  So were the zebra we saw at the side of the road.

A sluggish feeling arose in me.  We were walking home from school one day when I was fifteen years old.  I had to climb a hill to get home.  The road was steep in places.  Sometimes I just had to stop.  The March winds rolled up the valley and tousled my hair.  Why do I remember this day?  I was about to have a nervous breakdown if something did not shift at home.  My dad had made me a promise to never to do something again that he had done.  He had threatened to kill my mom.  Dangerous waters these are.

There was a subtle hint of April in the air.  A sun shower followed a rain shower which had followed a sun shower.  The roses were unfurling the first buds.  And poppies were blooming in the garden.  I love this time of year.  The Earth refreshes herself, and summer is a dream coming to fruition.

Imagine heaven.  Imagine a place where no two things are unrelated.  Imagine a moment that lasts an eternity.  Imagine a world that exists eternally in a twinkling.  Imagine a  dimension which is as different from our own as it gets.  Imagine a point of pain.  Now imagine a point of joy, of love, of peace, of nurturing.  Now imagine a place where every point of pain was a source of learning and every point of joy was a source of learning also.  Imagine a place where every point of pain was surrounded by love and peace until the pain dissolved forever.  Imagine a place where you could learn anything you wanted, anything that bothered you could be discussed.  Imagine a place where nothing is hidden, where everything is understood, a place where nothing could not be dreamed.

Abandon your most holy endeavor riddled with fear, Loosen up your grip upon the reins overcome with thorns, Open up the heart to a loss spawned by a career, Delve into the depths and reminisce held while she adorns...

The morning was cool, not quite temperate yet. We walked slowly in the mountain air. The air was pungent. The dogwoods were in bloom, the wind was high in the trees, and the music of the spheres was wafting through my soul. Yosemite does that to me.

Have you ever heard the expression “All that is”? My father gave me a book. Well actually, I helped myself to his abundant library after he died. One of his favorites, one he read constantly was the Tao Te Ching. Lao Tzu often used the words “all that is” in his writings. I often wondered just what he was talking about. In fact, I pondered these words. I tried very hard to imagine what is “all that is”. It seemed too vast to imagine.

I sat down to meditate, a practice I usually started at 7:30 in the morning. The wheels in my mind were going faster than I could imagine. Something had upset me in the early hours of the morning. I glanced at the clock. It was 7:35a.m. My tea was unfinished, and the yogurt in my bowl was half eaten. But it was that important to me to meditate this day and most days. I began with a slow breath in. The sun was rising, and light was appearing at the window. Another breath, and another, and then a big sigh volunteered itself. It was time to let go of all of those thoughts I had had since the early hours of the morning.

I was working my way through grief. The waves mellowed in time, but a pervasive sadness arose. I had to find a way out of the sadness. It wasn’t that raw, gut-wrenching grief I was feeling. It was that I had to live the rest of my life without her. I could not imagine not having Grandma. How does one live without someone to share the joy? How does someone live without the peace she brings? How does one find the beauty in life that she brought? How do I go on when the best person on the planet just left me? I could not imagine.