by Jennifer Johnston
The Tibetan Endless Knot, from Wikipedia Commons
Released to public domain by Rickjpelleg
Though the world be a mirror at your feet, I shall not reflect you.
I shall sit alone in the night while you dance.
But when the world has marked its vengeance on your face,
Come to me ... I will make you beautiful with my eyes.
The lines of an old poem (without attribution) that I found in an old book in the old Childress High School library ... which I have remembered ever since (infernal memory again) ... come to me more and more these days as I watch loved ones struggle with health problems, as I hear word from friends of health and other problems of their own or within their own families and circles of friends, as I note news stories (way too many in one notable case) of the famous and infamous who have recently come to know (and prove) the old adages that time is fleeting ... that we do not know when our time will come ... or what will be visited upon us before that ultimate denouement....
Just this evening we learned of the death of Walter Cronkite ... one of the great, old-fashioned newsmen of our time ... he covered the Nuremberg War Crimes trials after World War II, the Vietnam War, the first steps of a man on the moon, and most memorably and indelibly to me, the events surrounding the assassination of President John F. Kennedy in November 1963. I have missed him since he retired, despite his occasional special reports and appearances ... and I so wish there were more like him. But I digress (with all due respect)....
Once we reach a certain age ... a certain awareness and maturity ... we become more and more cognizant that our steps are slowing ... that we are perhaps more susceptible to (and suffer more from) illnesses that would hardly have touched us once ... that it takes us longer to recover from such illnesses or sometimes even small exertions ... that some things we do that once nearly always brought smiles and joy now sometimes fall into the category of "wishful thinking" (and occasionally "obligation"). Worse, we begin to lose our family members and friends ... and horribly, unthinkably, sometimes our children ... to illness and accident and death.
This is unfortunately the "natural" and ordained progression of these lives we live ... all of our many and varied lives in diverse circumstances ... that we lead on this plane of existence. If we are lucky we may enjoy more happiness and less tribulation than some others ... but whether or not we are lucky, if we are wise we will also be contemplative and introspective ... seeking the knowledge and the growth and the lessons to be learned even when (sometimes mostly when) we are in pain ... when the night is darkest, and longest, full of shades and shadows, sorrow's sighs ... when the soul sometimes seems bereft of the touchstones and bedrock truths and pure, unquantifiable and unconditional love that may anchor and comfort and sustain us.
The Oureboros, symbol of eternity
Wikipedia Commons, public domain
Some people reject and refuse love ... the giving or receiving of it ... for many reasons, not the least of which is the fear that they will be hurt or disappointed ... or that they will be rejected or otherwise "lose" love if they find it. And it is good to guard a heart ... to gird the soul for the bumps and bruises and terrible losses that it will indeed suffer during a given lifetime. But if one secretes his or her heart in such an impregnable keep that it never opens to the joy of love both given and received ... then that heart becomes stunted, starving, devoured with inchoate longing ... without voice, without answer, without egress or light.
This past week or so has been filled with reports of a friend (not from Childress, lest anyone jump to conclusions) diagnosed with Stage IV colon cancer, and with concerns over Yahn's health and the health and well-being of some friends, with the terrible burdens borne by another friend and their deleterious effects on physical and mental health ... and with "hitting the wall" myself for a couple of days and literally taking to my bed as much as possible for some much-needed rest and recovery.
And yet ... it has also brought good news from one of our daughters, and "not bad news" from another (which is good!), and good thoughts and good wishes and good words from other friends ... and the promise of a wonderful lunch and quality visiting time on Saturday with my dear Linda Kay and JoAnn. A mixed bag to be sure ... but on the whole, even with some of the terrible news, the good has outweighed the bad, as it should for the most part ... in part because I firmly determined many many years ago that I would live my life as one of those people who chooses ("chooses" being the operative word here) to see the glass ... the life ... as being half (or more!) full of sweet, nurturing, sometimes intoxicating, and ultimately strengthening and sustaining fine wine.
Would I rather not have to hear awful or disheartening news, or experience a sense of sick dread when someone I love is struggling, or fighting some literally life-threatening battle with demons or disease? Of course I would ... except that I must always remember that without trials ... without tribulations ... without pain and loss ... we would never know the true sweetness of life itself and the promise of glorious, fulfilling lives and love to come.
Brian K. Weiss, M.D., author of Many Lives, Many Masters and Messages from the Masters (among other books), whose ideas regarding multiple lives closely track (but not completely) my own, writes that he is frequently asked why anyone choosing the circumstances of his next life would choose to be born into the lowest caste in India, or with a terrible disease, or in less than optimum circumstances. Weiss posits that the wise soul will sooner or later make those choices because without experiencing everything, the good and the bad, the soul will not be able to grow and learn and progress as it should to reach the state where it can ultimately transcend to a higher plane ... which makes wonderful and profound sense to me.
Plato, echoing the teachings of his mentor Socrates, considered the soul to be the absolute essence of a person, an eternal occupant of our being ... and posited that as one body dies, the soul is reborn into subsequent existences. In Plato's theories, the soul consists of the logos (the mind, or reason), the thymos (emotion, and masculine in nature) and eros (the appetite or desire, which is feminine). The complete, fulfilled and balanced soul will contain all of these elements, optimally joined and melded and operating in complete harmony ... which also makes complete and profound sense to me.
The Jewish Kabbalah speaks of the soul as being composed of three elements: the living, mortal being which will die; the "middle" soul or spirit, which contains the ability to distinguish between good and evil; and the higher soul, which relates to the intellect and allows man to benefit from and enjoy the afterlife. There are many religions or schools of philosophical thought, including but not limited to Buddhism and Hinduism and certain Native American beliefs, that hold that the soul never dies, but "migrates" from one body to another while seeking its eternal home, its eternal partner, its other and complementary half.
Artist's concept of the birth of a star
NASA Image, in public domain
So ... in this filled and fraught week ... would I have traded the brief communications from one dearly loved friend, the good news from another, the felicitations from another ... would I forgo the absolute delight of seeing my dear friends on Saturday ... in exchange for the "prize" of never feeling anything deeply but sometimes painfully again? Not on your ... or my ... life! I choose to see ... and feel ... life in all its colors, its shadows, its pain, and its soul-lifting joy. I choose to live and grow and one day to move on to a world where I am meant to be ... where "what might have been" becomes living, breathing and eternal reality. Your choice is your own, but I believe ... and
... when the world has marked its vengeance on your face,
Come to me ... I will make you beautiful with my eyes.
It is said the eyes are the windows to, as well as reflections of, the soul....
)O(
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