I often write about the brutality and bliss of life and how if we can only realize that there is no end game, no moment where we arrive and everything is perfect all of the time, that we can let go of the constant pursuit of happiness and enjoy each moment of bliss as it arrives.
It’s hard work and rather energy draining in my experience, to be in never ending seeking mode. Not to mention that when we are so busy working for something better, we miss out on the goodness of right now.
And so this month as some brutal memories and moments cross my path I surrender. I don’t fight them because I know they are not to be fought. They are not mountains to be conquered or experiences to be overcome. Side note - have you ever noticed the masculinized language of dealing with hardship? Instead, I welcome in the brutality of my human experience, the messiness and imperfection of being alive. I am grateful that I have enough years behind me to know that the waves of brutality that sometimes wash over us, are a precursor for more bliss being on the way - even if right now feels hard.
Not only is this month a remembering of almost losing my own life 11 years ago in the jungle of Laos (more on that right here), it’s the month when our beloved friend Hanna Lahoud was shot and killed in Yemen. Just weeks before his life was taken, I had hugged him hard in the Red Cross hallways and told him, ‘be safe, happy Easter and I’ll see you soon’.
Two weeks ago my darling niece Denvah Star was born into this world sleeping - we both welcomed her and told her goodbye in the same breath. A perfect angel and a loss so great for my step-sister that I don’t know how she survives, except I do know because she is one of life’s living goddesses.
Just last week a friend’s husband left her earth side - he was the same age as me. As his brain bled, he slipped into a coma, then into death with his family and his favourite music surrounding him. ‘He passed peacefully,’ they said and I could not help but wonder what that felt like - did he know or feel his own passing from one world to the next?
Every day we are experiencing so much loss. Thousands of innocent children to war, thousands of women to domestic violence, thousands of trees to corporate greed, the great loss of biodiversity due to the destruction of our planet.
How do we live in a state of joy, connection and abundance at a time of such profound loss?
The answer is so simple and yet it’s like we have constant memory lapse. They are the two sides of the same coin. Without loss there is no replenishment. Without separation there is no craving for connection. Without inertia there is no need for action. Without sadness, there is no requirement for joy. Without brutality there can be no experience of bliss.
The wisdom of Mother Nature, of Ayurveda, of yoga, knows that we live in cycles, around us and within us. But we too often try to operate our lives in straight lines, a timeline of achievements and accomplishments. We are born at the beginning and in the end we die. When instead we can choose to experience this one wild and precious life in a state of circular motion, vinyasa, flow - failing, falling, living, loving and growing. Rather than spending all our energy resisting our discomfort, we instead make friends with it, suddenly discovering that it’s all part of who we are. Our losses are the flip side to our unlimited supply of love, our incredible capacity to feel so deeply, the profound connection we have with ourselves, each other and the planet. We rarely realise but we already have everything we need.
Let our losses, the hardship, the brutal moments, be our reminders of good times coming, and of the glorious multiplicity and breadth of our human existence and welcome everything in. Because when we begin to live like this, in flow, we also stop living for the future and start living right now - and that dear ones, is actually the key to living an enlightened life.