A very dear friend of mine died last week, leaving a gaping hole. Only days before we had been laughing and chatting over a cuppa. We would while away many hours sitting on a bench in the sun, down at the harbour, watching the world go by. When it rained we would shelter in his clap board hut clutching a brew listening to the shipping forecast. There was never a dull moment as he regaled stories of his life on the high seas. Many times I had been whisked away on the breeze of some distant exotic land. He was my guardian angel, in as much as he always seemed to be around when I needed help. On more than one occasion he came out in his little fishing boat to look for me, when I had failed to return from a kayaking trip at the allotted time. He always happened by on his bike when I mistakenly thought I needed to be on my own. 'Ah there you are girl, where have you been? I need some help with something' .... it always did the trick and took my mind off whatever was bugging me.
Today I walked down by the beach huts, the wind was biting, the remnants of snow still lying on the ground. My face stung in the icy air. I thought about him and death and how I would miss his company. I thought about the koan 'What was your original face before your parents were born?' What is my original face? what is my true self? I am everything and everything is me. Then, I am him and he is me. His energy continues to flow. All keeps moving. I haven't changed, I have changed, nothing stays the same. My original face is his original face.
I walk, look back over my shoulder, he smiles his wicked smile, and says, as always, 'Don't be late girl !'.
A bag full of driftwood and back into the studio.
