Meditation before the Kaddish

When I die give what’s left of me away
to children and old men that wait to die.
And if you need to cry,
cry for your brother walking the street beside you.
And when you need me, put your arms around anyone
and give them what you need to give me.

I want to leave you something,
something better than words or sounds.
Look for me in the people I’ve known or loved,
and if you cannot give me away,
at least let me live in your eyes and not in your mind.

You can love me best by letting hands touch hands,
and by letting go of children that need to be free.
Love doesn’t die, people do.
So, when all that’s left of me is love,
give me away.

All any of us really need

“I was not a good person. I have yelled at my children. I neglected my parents and was disloyal to loved ones. I have offended righteous people. People around here know all this about me, and yet they still smile and say hello, and so every day I feel forgiven. Ask me if it’s a good place to live, and I don’t know — that’s real estate talk — but forgiveness and understanding are a beautiful combination.”

~Garrison Keillor

not really plagiarism

I suppose I should just send you all to Sarah’s blog at and shut this one down, since I just keep “stealing” her posts and putting them up here.

But this was just too perfect to pass up.

Thanks, Sarah.

In the beginning, spirituality is a seeking practice. We seek peace, we seek joy, we seek wisdom, we seek awakening, we seek self betterment. Farther down the road, the realization comes that we already are the peace and joy and wisdom and awakening and self betterment that we seek. At that point, spirituality becomes what it is… Not a practice of seeking anything. But a practice of uncovering what was there inside you all along. You already are the light at the end of the tunnel. You already are the wisdom, you already are the peace, you already are the joy. You already are awakened, you already are perfect. All that’s left is for you to discover that you are.

– Teal Scott

I am?


Maybe it is, actually, enough just to be looking.

(Beatific smile)

where to find it. . .

Part of my thought process, and of conversation with some of my followers, has been regarding where “Happiness” can actually be found.

I think there are things in our lives that we would say “Make” us happy — our life partner, successful children, satisfying work, a good meal, a nice Barolo.

But we also know that this isn’t really what I’m talking about.

I’m trying to find the happiness that lasts, that persists despite an outer circumstance that would not be of my choosing.

I don’t want to be Pollyanna, necessarily; but maybe  B. K. S. Iyengar.

He writes: To feel is a verb; it is something that happens. We all feel.  Emotion is a noun, a thing. To feel is beautiful, belonging to both the animal and the human condition. When we allow feelings to harden and coalesce into emotions, which we transport like overburdened slaves, we deny ourselves life’s freshness, its ever-present potential for renewal and transformation. We waste so much energy through allowing our emotions to govern us. . .In a healthy organism, feelings should pass like clouds over the sun.

So I’ve been thinking about this feeling vs. emotion, happiness vs. “Happiness.”

I think the answer is in gratitude, and in just living. (Just. As if it’s just that easy.)

Even if we have lost something dear to us, we had it. And even if we lose something that matters, we have other things that we were once really grateful for and probably have still, and maybe keeping that in front of us, within us, can balance out the pain of what we’ve lost.

When I fell in love with my husband, I felt myself wake up after what seemed like a really long time spent walking around like a somnambulist. In all those years before I was doing stuff, I was productive, I was meeting my obligations, but it was all like playing a role in a really long play (Synechdoche, NY comes to mind).

I sent him this poem once, and had an acronym of the last line engraved inside his wedding band:

Siehe, ich lebe.
Weder Kindheit noch Zukunft werden weniger. . .
Überzähliges Dasein entspringt mir im Herzen.    (Rainer Maria Rilke)

Look, I am living.
On what?
Neither childhood nor future grows any smaller. . .
Superabundant being wells up in my heart.

I had it, which means I could lose it. But I had it, and because I had it once, I have it all still.