Tamara-ji, beloved guide, my partner in this brief cataclysmic adventure:
No music, no movement, no concatenation of word and image can capture how you have elevated me. I honor you, gentle soul, whose expansive heart and deft mind has helped illuminate my path.
I’ve learned this now: there are, scattered about this earth, safe and humble teachers, and we who pause to honor them only do what love and gratitude compels us to do. Some show their love with service; while in this case intelligent propriety prevents me from doing the same, I would if I could–and I do, in the houses of my heart.
The things I would do:
Paint your house
Carry your water
Charge your phone
Wash your feet
Anoint your forehead
File your paperwork
Serve you a meal
Tie your shoe
Salt your food
Wash your car
Weed your garden
Fold every one of your lovely scarves
And buff those kick-ass boots.
And I would bless you with my heart and hand
As you leave our room, a benediction
So that all your days are filled with life
Your shadows sharp in endless light
And all your pain has purpose.
Whatever number marks my days in this life is made infinitesimal by the forever that holds you in my heart. Thank you. I love you.
