I went to a memorial service today in honor of a dear friend who had passed away last week. It was a celebration, actually, and as I sat there and listened to the stories told of his life I wondered what he was doing and what it was like where he was now on his continued journey in a different form.
He was a prayerful man, and in the service they shared this Irish Blessing and it was as if I could hear him imparting this message to each one of us with love.
The rhythms of life are sure and true and there comes a time when our lives blend more with the spiritual than the physical and we find ourselves at a juncture to where we cross over. It’s a mystery – one that most fear.
It’s comforting to think that life doesn’t end when we die. It just picks up and continues in a different dimension invisible to our eyes still connecting us in some way. Just as Emily Dickinson said as quoted from Dr. Wayne Dyer in Wisdom Of The Ages:
And lads and girls;
Was laughter and ability and sighing,
And frocks and curls.
This passive place a summer’s nimble mansion,
Where bloom and bees
Fulfill’d their oriental circuit,
Then ceased, like these.
Everything changes in the world of form and that includes us. Part of the suffering comes from wanting to hold onto what we have and the people we love but it’s not designed that way. So, in time we learn to let go and bless the moments, things and people that come in and out of our lives. We learn to be present.
So, for now, as I bid farewell to my dear friend likewise extending to him the Irish Blessing, I’m reminded of a passage written by Kent Nerburn in Simple Truths: Clear & Gentle Guidance on the Big Issues in Life (page 109):
“When we come to the end of our journey, and the issues that so concerned us recede from us like the day before the coming night, it will be these small touches – the child we have helped, the garden we have planted, the meal we have prepared when we were too weary to do so – that will become our legacy to the universe.”
“It is a small legacy, perhaps, but a legacy nonetheless. Somewhere, between a baby’s cry and the distant brightness of a star, the mystery was alive in us for a moment. It was our privilege to feel its presence, and to have the chance to pass it on.”