It is January 27, 2014 and last week the doctor told your mother she could touch the top of your head. Right now, you are ][ this close to being out here in the air with us. But you continue to swim inside your mother like the most incredible mermaid.
Sadly, out here, your dad continues to struggle with his writing routine. It's been a busy month: I've been to the Sundance Film Festival in Park City, Utah; finished the first draft of a script I must go back and polish; been struggling to make a transition to some new people at work now that your mother is going to be leaving (for a while?)
That's my rationale and excuse for not having written more to you, but it is of course, an excuse.
One thing I pray is that you find place where you can find a greater peace than I have.
Many years ago, when I was traveling in India, I met a man who is perhaps one of the top 10 wisest people I've ever met. His name was Professor Narendra Wig and he had helped make major changes in the mental health care system in India. He and I would talk about spirituality because at a professional conference where everyone was talking about medications and a model of Western medicine. I saw that he kept pushing for people to view mental illness the way that a broader population in India might.
At some point, I asked him: "Do you think there is a connection between Spirituality and Mental Illness?" He beamed the way you'll see very wise men beam and said: "I am so glad you asked that question." And then proceeded to tell me about how, "In India, you don't have to believe in God to be spiritual."
That's a complicated thought, I'm not sure I can say I completely understand. Let's just say: I believe he is talking about our way of approaching the world with Love, with what is burning INSIDE of us, not trying to define things outside of us so much.
So, what is this all about? Why am I talking about this man I met many years ago?
Well, you see, I've been bashing myself a good deal about not being "good enough", about not "getting things done that need doing." And I'm pretty sure that's not how God sees me. (Or will ever see you.)
It's hard to imagine when you are being so hard on yourself... let me try that again.... It's hard for ME to imagine that when I am being hard on MYSELF, that there is a God that loves me as much as I love you right now. I am astonished at how much I want to see your face. I am astonished at how my eyes tear up just thinking about holding you. And I'm (thankfully) not egotistical enough to think this story ends with me. There is a river far back beyond my tears that is the same river most parents feel for their unborn.
Believing in that river is what, I think, Professor Wig was talking about.
We were talking another time about the First Noble Truth of Buddhism. And the First Noble Truth is: Life is suffering. Although he was not a Buddhist, I think Professor Wig believed this too. At one meeting, when people were discussing mental illness, he offered up this catchphrase like an advertising tagline: "Just another of life's catastrophes." That "just" says volumes and the rest of the phrase spoke to his perspective among very poor people trying very hard to stay alive.
It sounds so defeatist to say that "Life is suffering." But as I pointed out, Christians say the same thing when they point to Christ crucified up on the cross. It's the first image you see when you walk into a Church, Christ crucified on the Cross.
But just like the Buddha who spoke of a Second, Third and Fourth Noble Truth, Christians (and Muslims, I believe) say that the story doesn't end there. But like any good story, you have to tell it right: if the First Noble Truth really IS suffering, what is that suffering caused by?
Perhaps I've been thinking so much about suffering, because I see the pain your mother is in, trying to sleep at night as her body makes adjustments and her hips try to accommodate this person who may JUMP out of her at any moment? Perhaps it's because I think how much I will loathe and dread ever seeing YOU suffer. Or perhaps I'm being selfish and thinking about my own inability to focus and work through some problems.
Whatever the reason, what I pray always is that you find your own way to address the Noble Truths and that when you DO suffer, that unlike your father you are better able to access the three other Noble Truths better than I have:
2nd: that the source of our suffering is clinging. (This can be clinging to material things or clinging to old ways of thinking, grudges and petty jealousy.)
3rd: that the way to end the suffering is to end the attachment. (A Buddhist teacher I had once talked about imagining a gleaming sword with which you cut that attachment. And that sword can be as simple as a breath of Awareness which is why we meditate.)
And fourth and finally, like many spiritual teachings it's sort of a tricky one, that once we've seen that we CAN end the attachments, you have to wonder: "How" and here is where different schools of spiritual teaching may differ (and amazingly how much they are similar):
For Buddhist's the path to end that suffering is called "The Eightfold Path" and goes like this:
Right Understanding
Right Thought
Right Speech
Right Action
Right Livelihood
Right Effort
Right Mindfulness
Right Concentration
Another thing, your mother and I did this weekend was attend a funeral for the mother of a good friend. (I am hoping like your mother it is many many years before you to a funeral.) And at that funeral, they read a passage from the Gospel of Matthew 5:1-12. It is called by Catholics, the Beatitudes, during Jesus' Sermon on the Mount. And for me, it is Jesus discussing his own "Eightfold Path":
Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.
Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth.
Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled.
Blessed are the merciful, for they shall be shown mercy.
Blessed are the poor in heart, for they will see God.
Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called the sons of God.
Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
Blessed are you when people insult you, persecute you and falsely say all kinds of even against you because of me. Rejoice and be glad, because great is your reward in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you.
As I heard a Catholic theologian once say: Jesus is NOT saying it is good to be poor, or mourn or meek... but rather when you ARE or when you DO, you are still blessed. You may not feel like you are. But you are.
As I write these words I think about how much I love you and how much I love your mother. And I know there is a river behind me that feeds that love.
You are blessed, dear daughter. Never forget that. Because if you do, that's when the suffering really begins.
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