I’ve Grown Used to Miracles

by Adi Da

I’ve grown used to miracles.

The wonder is not whether

we be together

me with those I’m loving

on some other side.

The wonder is that we’ve met and been together

loving here, in this world,

where love is yet to take its hold.

Of course this is no consolation to you,

You who are seeking for me everywhere.

But this is not the place for consolations.

And only those who understand are fit for loving here.

I was used to miracles the day I lived.

And now I begin my days myself.

Even if I make a logic of your sentiment

If we found each other here

how should we lose the touch

in a world more light?

(from Crazy Da Must Sing,(Inclined to His Weaker Side)

 

I had multiple reports and digital sightings of ice cream eaten in Richard’s name yesterday. Another plus for Kendal is that they serve very good ice cream here. After dinner, as Emilia and I sat eating our ‘frozen dairy delight’ as Richard laughingly referred to it, just talking about him and ice cream lightened our sorrow. We followed that up with a post prandial walk, (well, she walked, and I zoomed in my scooter) across a little wild corner of the property that has covered bridges over swampy wetlands. It must be how much of this sprawling property looked before being turned into numerous tamed ponds with green shores where many cottages have been built.

I agree with the sentiments of this poem (and am caught by the perspective) that our friend Kim sent to me and my daughters. I have often said to my clients that it is a miracle that we find and love each other at all. It is not useful to focus on the idea that we alone of all people, didn’t find a partner to love us perfectly. We are very human and that pretty much rules out the chances of unconditional love in most cases. The exceptions are true saints and there are few enough of those around. Given our determined inclination to remain our limited selves throughout our lives, the fact that love finds and blossoms between us is a miracle in all cases.

I realized some months ago that losing ‘my own’ Richard’s face of Love meant that I now had the opportunity to find Love in every face. Steeped in his particular brand for so many years I am letting go of the specifics of his love-style very slowly. The releasing happens of its own accord. Every time a sharp wave of grief hits me, which happens with somewhat less frequency, I resist, yield, cry and then experience a quiet contented ground of being. From there I lift my eyes and can see, like a vast bamboo forest, we are all growing from the same interconnected root system. May love ‘yet..take its hold’ in our frightened human world.

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