A friend of mine died today. It was a good death. It was clear she had a chance to finish some work, and she died surrounded by loving hearts. I was privileged, and edified, to witness her journey to the door.
But that is not why I am writing. I am writing because I realized that with her passing, with anyone’s passing, everything has changed. Tomorrow, I will wake up to a different world. A world without her is an entirely different world. Everything will be different because she is not here. And I am not talking about grief here. I am not saying that everything will be different because I am missing her. No. Everything will be different because the entire structure of reality will have changed with her passing.
I wrote about this on pilgrimage in 2006 (see Dying and Living in the Arms of Love - One Woman’s Journey around Mount Kailash, pages 118 and 180). We are all like dots in an Impressionistpainting. No one dot makes the whole, but all the dots together make the whole. And when the next moment arises, and one dot has left, it is a different picture. All the dots are of necessity in a different relationship to each other.
That’s how powerful we are. Each and every one of us. That’s how much each of us matters. That the whole fabric of reality changes when we appear. That’s how powerful each moment of our life is. Each moment of your life affects everything. Each moment of my life affects everything. How dare I minimize that! How dare I not show up! There is no right way to show up. There is just showing up and staying until I leave. That is what courage is. If you are here, be here until you are not. That is your sacred, mundane contribution that echoes to infinity.