Do What's In Front Of You: Remembrance Of Loss

I started writing a post about lost abilities, but the universe (or the cyber-universe, at least) took it away.  As I was writing, it disappeared.  I take it as a sign that, though I may examine it briefly, I should not pursue this topic at length.  All things have a reason.

Maybe breast cancer has taken far more from me than I ever imagined it could.  Today, I realize that's the very definition of spirituality for me.  We lose everything, eventually.  No matter what.  No matter how many vitamins we take, how many trips to the gym, the body will deteriorate and, eventually, die.  Intellect will fade and personality will alter.  That's how it goes.

I just have to remember that, accept it and, ultimately, I must embrace it.  That which I believe myself to be is just an illusion.  The whole is more than the sum of its parts.  The one I truly am will not be touched by deterioration of any kind.

Chemo clarified the things I am not:  not hair, not intellect, not memory, not physical health, not my emotions.  These are merely things that I've stepped into, only to leave them behind when the time comes.  It's a liberating and mournful clarity.

Today I remember and I see the task stretching out into the distance.  Celebrate.  I'm here to learn this lesson.  Remain open to suffering and dissolution.  Greet them as friends.  Just like all friends, they can be problematical at times and hard to love. 

Along the way, smaller realizations lead me to the greatest one.  At every moment, I can choose to search for the lesson that invites me. Seeing the truth is strenuous work and sometimes I'm not up to the challenge.  That's why I'm reminded, from time to time, in many ways, that life slips away. 

There's a great Zen precept  "Do what is in front of you."