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healing [updated]

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This morning seven people will come to my home for a Jizo ceremony — to remember and set adrift the spirit of a baby that died a while ago. I may say more about this later in the day. Stephen Levine writes that “the secret to healing is no secret at all.”

Lather that day. I feel so tired. Could be that spending two hours amidst a close-knit group mourning the loss of an unborn child weighs heavily on my heart. The kind of ache that even a mid-day nap won’t erase. Could be that my body has assumed some of the pain felt by others — not unlike Quan Yin, the Buddhist guardian of compassion, who “hears the cries of the world.” Or simply a cold coming on.

This morning I read aloud these lines by the Bengali poet Rabindranath Tagore: 

Peace, my heart, let the time for the parting be sweet.
Let it not be a death but completeness.
Let love melt into memory and pain into songs.
Let the flight through the sky end in the folding of the wings over the nest.
Let the last touch of your hands be gentle like the flower of the night.
Stand still, O Beautiful End, for a moment, and say your last words in silence.
I bow to you and hold up my lamp to light you on your way.

May all beings be at ease.

source: Levine, S. (1987). Healing into life and death. New York: Anchor Books, p. xiii.


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