My father in law once said to me, “Life is a series of hellos and goodbyes.” His words resonate with your meditation today.
I too was saddened to hear about Paul Newman’s death. I was very impressed with what he said in an interview once. He talked about how we tend to be such a throw away society, if the toaster breaks we buy a new one. He preferred to fix that toaster. I liked that about him.
I will always remember a video I watched in nursing school of a interview with a boy of 13 years. He seemed so wise for his young age. He spoke in open awareness of the fact that he had terminal cancer and his time was limited. He said, “Life is a precious gift and sooner or later it will be taken away from you.” His attitude of acceptance was surprising and offered me courage.
I recently re-read the book, “Black Elk Speaks.” I’d like to share the following two quotes with you. The context of this passage is about a heyoka ceremony that they performed to make people laugh. “The truth comes into this world with two faces. One is sad with suffering, and the other laughs; but it is the same face, laughing or weeping. When people are already in despair, maybe the laughing face is better for them; and when they feel too good and are too sure of being safe, maybe the weeping face is better for them to see.”
“The six grandfathers have placed in this world many things, all of which should be happy. Every little thing is sent for something, and in that thing, there should be happiness and the power to make happy. Like the grasses showing tender faces to each other, thus we should do, for this was the wish of the Grandfathers of the World.”
It’s early here, darkness is beginning to lift. I pause to go outside and breathe in morning’s cool air. The horizon is glowing orangey-pink with large grey storm clouds above and rumblings of thunder and lightning (unique for Southern California.) The sky above is a pale blue hue with mix of dark and light billowy clouds and a beautiful songbird is singing his heart out.
I recognize that goodbyes are natural parts of life, and sadness, grief are necessary companions. The way I see it I have two choices in how I live out my days; fearful or loving. God, help me choose Love.

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I really enjoyed today’s message; I have been away for a couple of weeks, but I’m am always happy to be here to be enriched.
While on vacation last week, I really put a lot of thought into impending exits. I spent quality time with my husband, and recognized our many years together. I also thought of our earliar days and anticipate our upcoming sunsets, as we move towards the end of our time on earth.
Some people don’t take much time to think of impending exits or tying up loose ends; they linger where they stand, hold onto to bitter parts in their life, or waste time – wondering why they aren’t where they wanted to be by now.
We should all remember life is too short (L.I.T.S); my husband and I use this phrase whenever one of us feels we’re at the end of our “rope”. We’ve been using this credo a lot lately.
Recently, several friends and relatives who we care for are experiencing their own loved one’s impending exits. I become their silent buddy and grieve, too.
So, I try to remember that my smile and light banter may also bring laughter and healing, while I encourage them to see the sun while it’s out and enjoy where they are today, because L.I.T.S.

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It is amazing to me how some events seem so disjointed yet maintain relevancy when the time is right to go and relive what we have experienced. A mystic once explained to me the word “arcane”. “It does not mean old” she said, “that word is “archaic”. “Arcane refers to that which has meaning only to you. It’s significance becomes clear when the universe sends you the opportunity to use it”. She referred to “arcane wisdom”. “Wisdom”, she followed, “is not knowledge, but the capacity to understand the knowledge that has been gifted to you”.
In the recent past I was faced with the exit of a phase of my life that made me sad and mournful for its passing. It was a forced exit, out of my control. I did my best to make sense of it, my logical mind fought to comfort me as I contemplated the events that would surround my change. Mostly I focused on the inconvenience that the change would bring upon me. It left me at odds.
My friends joke with me about the speed at which my thoughts come upon me and my tendency to have “stream of consciousness” conversations, often hard to track, but when they are patient and participate in the ever changing thought processes, we end up having a several conversations that eventually end up with the subject that initiated the dialogues. These conversations are in themselves, sacred because we talk about the “arcane” thoughts in our heads and what relevancy they currently have in relationship with the subject at hand.
I love the opera. I love it so much that my daughter’s name is Aria. My friend and neighbor had just attended his first opera and I was excited to talk about it. What I loved about the opera was not what he appreciated. He talked about the highs and lows the exciting and the boring, I talked about the beauty of the staging and the patience that it took sometimes to stay for the whole experience. With so many acts, operas tend to last long into the day, and some acts are not too enjoyable. When they are long and uneventful, I tell myself to stay to see if the next act will be better. No matter how long and boring the performance, the players however, must stay the whole program until the curtain call. The audience may be exhausted, but if you love the opera you stay because the programs usually builds to a grand ending and curtain call.
During this time of bereft-ness, trying to find the relevancy of the forced “exit” I was facing, a good friend of mine asked me to go to the local church carnival. Touring the food booths, I caught the eye of a man serving food, although he looked familiar, I could not recall who he was. I knew the memory of him was not a fresh one, yet he was someone from my past. I finally asked him as I do when I see someone I do not recall- “Where do I know you from?” – “From the hospital” he said, “My brother passed away”.
Years ago I worked with the bone marrow transplant program. Led by a medical director who believed in forming a group where everyone had a part in his patient’s care. I still consider it to be the best team I ever worked with. We were all asked for our input and were responsible for some form of interaction with the patient and their families. This man’s brother was one of the youngest patients I worked with. Seventeen years ago he was 22 and I was 26. As part of this team we got to know each other very well. He talked about his illness and his dreams, his hope for his family when he died. We had our own sacred “stream of consciousness” conversations.
His treatment failed and while I went away on vacation, he was dying. When I came back, I ran into his mother as she was leaving our chapel. “He is dying” she told me “He has been asking about you, will you come up?”
A short time later I went to his room where his family was gathered. He had been in and out of consciousness for a few days. When I came into his room, he reacted to my voice and sat up in bed “You’re here” he said, “I’ve been asking about you, I want to go now” “That’s fine” I answered, he lay back down and passed away. Now all these many years later I see his brother again. We both looked at each other and silently acknowledged and shared the “arcane wisdom” that we gained from his dead brother. I was the player who shared the stage with his brother’s exit.
This reading today reminded me that sometimes our relationships with our patients goes beyond the halls of our workplaces and plays on a different stage in a different act, in a different opera. In our short sightedness we sometimes see the play from the perspective of the theatergoer who wants to leave in the middle because the show is boring. But the player stays until the encore. Because the next act may bring some relevance to the boring one currently being played out. “The show’s not over until the fat lady sings”.
If all the world’s a stage and we are the players, just as in the case of this particularly sacred moment, my mourning for my current exit faded as I realized that meeting this family member had me still playing a part, stepping on to the stage again with his brother; and here we were, playing another act, but not yet taking a curtain call. I decided then to wait for my next act upon the stage; maybe it would bring some arcane wisdom to the painful one currently being playing out.

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Xavier,
Thank you for sharing this sacred stream of your consciousness. Reading your meditation was a most precious experience for me. It helps me realize that in the joys and sorrows of loving and letting, we truly are of One face.
I know that if I live out my days with an open, Loving and forgiving heart my last act and final exit is apt to be one of acceptance and gratitude. I appreciate the opportunity, to find a place in these pages, to contemplate and at least explore these thoughts. (These topics do not seem to be a hit in my social circles.)
Anticipatory grief and sorrow has been coming to me in intense waves. Strangely, today I am numb and out of touch with these deep feelings. Disconnected from my emotions, I’ve return to the routines of my life. There is a slight gnawing anxiety wondering when the next wave will hit. Yet, arcane’s wise voice gently speaks, rather than resist let those feelings wash over you in acceptance; there too you shall find Love.

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