To know a person’s suchness
InThich Nhat Hanh’s book Peace is Every Step: The Path of Mindfulness in Everyday Life he comments on understanding and accepting a person as they are which he calls their “suchness”. For whatever reason, I really liked his reference and explanation. He stresses that for the benefit of any relationship it is important to know and accept a person and all that they can bring to a relationship or in other words the “essence of their personality” and “true nature”. He states, “that if we don’t know enough about the ‘suchness’ of that person, we may get ourselves into trouble”. He further explains that to know a person we should also accept that there will be flaws which is okay, “We do not expect a person always to be a flower. We have to understand his or her garbage as well. That’s a statement that would benefit us all to remember.
The Roots of War
I wonder how many wars there would be if we all had to do as Thich Nhat Hanh’s states in his selection on The Roots of War. He states the importance of having key people who know and appreciate the suffering that is inflicted on all sides during war. Unfortunately, I believe that those key people manipulate any information that is passed to always enforce the rightness of their side. Any suffering is blanketed under statements that the cost is justified, and in the long run, will be beneficial to everyone. The short term cost is hidden and easily forgiven. I wonder if it is possible for the majority of Americans when contemplating the war we are in to ask themselves if the roots of our war could be found here in the U.S. and not in the middle east. I doubt it. A couple years ago a journalist published a book about the greatest generation. He writes about the generation of my parents. I bought the book and gave it to my father. It surprised me that he wasn’t interested. When I asked him why, he stated that the greatest generation is yet to come. For him the greatest generation would be the one that refused to enter into any war, to stop all wars. Maybe I’m being pessimistic but I doubt if we will ever have a greatest generation.

Another journey

Reflecting back as to why I originally changed my class schedule for this semester to include this AOL class I can see that I really needed to focus on what it means to live. I didn’t think very hard about switching classes, for lack of a better word, I acted on a gut feeling, a sort of intuitive knowledge that I needed something to hold onto while I grieved. I think it was a good choice.
I come from a large extended family with lots of uncles and aunts on both sides of my family. I was taught to embrace the family ties that were given me and did so with gustso. But over the last decade and a half I lost all of my aunts and uncles with the exception of one aunt. I felt sad for my cousins but at the same time so very glad (and grateful) it wasn’t me. I hate to admit it and it’s embarrassing to say, but I thought that if I was grateful enough and showed it then I would somehow be spared until my parents were a very ripe old age with me entering into old age myself. It didn’t turn out that way and for about 3 months I was really angry that the gratitude that I showed the universe wasn’t enough.
In April when my Dad died I had to accept the next journey that I was beginning. It’s hard but this next phase in life deals so much with loss. The loss of my parents, of family and friends, of opportunity, of time; my own morality is right there in my face. I look and see my brothers and sister so differently now. They range in age between 56 and 62. They are the grandparents now with two generations beyond them. It’s funny how we all deal with death in such diverse ways. I don’t hide my feelings but try to grasp onto something that can help me stay balanced, my sister, on the other hand, says she “just doesn’t go there” while one brother drinks away his grief, the other seems internalizes his pain. My mother becomes very, very busy with cleaning and other simple tasks which seem to bring relief to her. It seems we all process things so differently and at different speeds. So alike and yet so different…
When the death of my Dad occurred the pain was so intense. I didn’t want to let go. But there really is no choice. Part of the pain encompasses that fact that he was ½ of my beginning. Some invisible connection with the universe and all that matters has been altered. Because my father was 86 and had begun having difficulty getting around at times I spent a great deal of time either planning or helping him live the best life he could with limitations. When he began having trouble bending and moving around while gardening I helped. In the process I found that there really is something to planting food and watching it grow and then eating it that is meaningful. When he needed rides I took him. When he needed help in the yard changing a tire or whatever I helped him. I even shot a snake this summer that was perched over an area that my Dad liked to rest. I didn’t kill it with the first shot, but man, did I hit it. I couldn’t believe it, never did my Dad. I can’t say which of us was the most surprised. We had planned to complete another garden this year. I clipped his toenails when he got to the point where he couldn’t reach down so well. I worried over his health, needs and wants. I was devoted. But there is a price to pay for devotion and love. Loss. And now that he is gone I am sometimes completely overcome with tears. And I still worry about him.