I have been away, an intense week of craniosacral studies, getting to now those I will work with for the next two years. I stayed with my step-father who is 93 years old, and we talked about his health, and the inevitability of death. He says he still has a few embers burning yet, and indeed he manages remarkably well, although beginning to look frail. We joked about what kind of life he might come back to next time. I arrived home to a house full of family, children and grandchildren, life continuing, fresh and brimful.
The cycle of life, birth, growth, death and decay is repeated continually around us and within us. Sometimes life is peaceful and plentiful, and later it is harsh, breaking and rebuilding. Recently we have seen our Mother Earth in violent changes, great storms, cyclones, earthquakes, fires and floods, a time of change. Our hearts are with those affected by the tsunami in Japan. Life and death, give and take, ebb and flow. This beautiful poem by Tagore expresses it perfectly:
The same stream of life that runs through my veins night and day
runs through the world and dances in rhythmic measures.
It is the same life that shoots in joy through the dust
of the earth in numberless blades of grass and breaks
into tumultuous waves of leaves and flowers.
It is the same life that is rocked in the ocean-cradle
of life and death, in ebb and flow.