The Sun will Rise Again

These last few evenings have been unpleasant as I witness the tragedies that rock Japan and the loss of a friend who transcended this life just before the first quakes hit.  Unrelated in event, the same in the divine lila (play), I sit silently and mourne, ache, and contemplate upon the cycle that we must observe and inevitably experience.  May Chandi cut away any doubts of this.

Life.  Death.  Rebirth.  The vicious waves of samsara consumes until we detach from it.  This requires swimming against currents whose strength cannot be replicated by any natural disaster.  Mountains can, indeed, be moved more easily than the mind of a person fixed on duality.  But, there remains something even more powerful than that:  Hope.  In times of personal crisis, it has been the only thing that has pulled me through.

It is my hope that we do not consider the tragedy as one to Japan, but as one to all of us.  We need to stop looking at others by skin color, nationality, gender, religion and other transient identities.  That only feeds the duality that churns samsara and promotes our suffering. Just as I find loss in the passing of Julie, so do we experience tragedy in the loss of our own, of those of us who just happen to be in the country of Japan. 

An observation, a question:  Why do we so easily find unity following such disasters?  It thrills me to see us come as one to help each other during such times.  Yet, it perplexes me that, during all other times, we become individuals, often ones in apathy of others unless our gain is in concern.  Think upon that.  Give me your own answers, if you will.  Why can we not keep submitted our ego all other times?

Nonetheless, brothers and sisters of Japan: Remember, you are the the Land of the Rising Sun.  It may appear to be sitting upon you now, but just as rebirth follows death, you shall also be see the Rising Sun once more.  Until then, you stay in my prayers, and my prayers remain in the unity of us all--and, a hope that as the waters recede, so does the dualist current that keep us apart.

To Julie, sitting now in the splendor of her devaloka, I love you.  I know that life gave you a terrible hand but you endured through it.  I was not always there for you as I should have been, and I hold only myself accountable for it.  Your heart gave out because it was too open for this world to accept.  If given rebirth, may Devi give you an abundance beyond your dreams.  I miss you... Tarpayami, dear one.

Om shanti, shanti, shanti.