Finding Equilibrium

The past year, for many people I know (including myself) has been about facing big challenges and losses — then finding some equilibrium among the remains. I went through some health challenges for several months last year. I had problems keeping food down. My gall bladder was in full rebellion. For over a month, I was too sick to sit at my computer and write posts.

Before I felt fully recovered, I had to make emergency trips to Kansas to care for my mother. She died in September of leukemia. It was two days before my birthday. I was raw and fragile from the experience for quite awhile. Then, I heard news about people I didn’t know that affected me deeply. Even though I did not know them, I felt a personal sense of loss. I know that some of that sense of loss was because I was (and am) still in the midst of grieving for my mother.

Steve Jobs died on October 5. The news, though not unexpected, caused me to sense a deep loss. I admired many things about Steve Jobs. I have been a Mac user for a long time. I have not used any other platform since 1988. I write my blog on a Mac, I write and layout books on a Mac, I edit sound and video on a Mac and I even do astrology on a Mac. Almost everything I do for my livelihood is done on a Mac, so the passing of the visionary who created my tools was deeply felt.

Then, Jerry Hicks died on November 18 of leukemia. I am a fan of the Abraham-Hicks materials, because what they teach is the same as what my guides have been telling me since the 1970s. I didn’t know Jerry Hicks, but his passing from the same thing my mom had re-connected me with the experience of taking care of her in her final days.

The holiday season was surreal. Not just because of my mother’s absense, but because almost everyone who usually came to my house for the holidays was missing. My son’s wife and her mother usually came to my house, but my son divorced last year, so they did not come. My niece and her son usually came to my house, but they moved 1500 miles away last year. I went from hosting 8 – 10 people for the holidays every year to only me and my son for the holidays. It felt a bit lonely without a boisterous crowd.

In February, Dorothe Blackmere, a friend and one of the founders of the Church of Tzaddi, died. I was sorry to see her go. About three days after I attended her memorial service, I found out another friend had developed serious dementia and was in a nursing home. In retrospect, I had seen it coming, but it was sad to see her in a nursing home.

That was a few weeks ago. About two weeks ago, I heard that Peter Bergman of the Firesign Theatre died on March 9 of leukemia. I was a fan. I used to have all of their albums on vinyl. I met him and his wife and daughter, Lily at a conference in Hawaii. I helped him with some HTML coding. We had some interesting talks. I can’t claim we were friends, but I was glad to know him after being a fan.

Then, a few days ago I found out that a dear friend in Seattle has AIDS and is very sick. I know at least five people who have lost a parent on the past couple of months. I said to a friend that it feels like “dying season” recently. It sounds like a post apocalyptic term.

It feels like a lot of people are checking out — returning to Source. I know there is no REAL death. It’s just an illusion, based on the notion that these bodies are who we are. These bodies are just temporary containers for our sacred essence — nothing more. But like most people, I come to associate that body and that personality with someone I care about.

So, now I’m working on finding my equilibrium after so many people have left the scale feeling unbalanced without them. My health is definitely better. I’m working on some meaningful projects. My life is good. And I’m adjusting to absenses