This is no day of rest. It’s a day early and I’m spending it packing and preparing to leave for our trip to Oregon tomorrow, but I feel compelled to write this now, and might as well post it since it’s already written.
I’ve been thinking a lot about mortality. A sometime student of mine and fellow yoga practitioner died this week. He was young, had just gotten married last year and had a baby boy. His death was an accident, a fall at a construction site, and a shock. I didn’t know him well, but I’d chat with him from time to time. He was one of those people who was always around, always said “hello” and had a smile on his face. He was the nicest guy. I just took a yoga class with him a few weeks ago. And now he’s just…gone.
Death is confusing for those left behind. Especially when the death is sudden and unexpected, but even when it’s not it is so hard to comprehend that someone you knew, someone you loved is just…gone, that you will never see them again. There’s a particular difficulty when you didn’t get to say good-bye, when you didn’t realize that the last time you saw them was the last time you’d ever see them.
by William Stafford
It could happen any time, tornado,
earthquake, Armageddon. It could happen.
Or sunshine, love, salvation.
It could you know. That’s why we wake
and look out–no guarantees
in this life.
But some bonuses, like morning,
like right now, like noon,
Maybe you are tired of hearing me say it, kind and gentle reader, but life is tender and terrible, beautiful and brutal — keep your heart open. And may all of us, those here and gone, rest in peace.