My teacher appeared to me
in the midst of my grief for him.
I was on a bench in a park in the
city. Buses were coughing by and
small shops were opening. And
since my teacher no longer has
hands, he swept a bird in my face
to break up my sadness. And since
he no longer has a mouth, the light
off the windows twenty stories up
drifted through the leaves. I said,
“I miss you.” And I thought I heard
him say, “Do everything while you’re
here.” Then it began to mist, thoughthe sun was shining. As if the Uni-
verse were crying at what it does to
us in order to keep going. Just then,
a child lost a ball. It bounced my
way. Now my teacher was in the
bounce and I thought I heard
him say, “Enough of this.
Pick up the ball and live.”
A Question to Walk With: Bring three friends together and in conversation, have each of you describe the impact of someone who is now gone and what each gave you.
This excerpt is from my book, The One Life We’re Given: Finding the Wisdom That Waits in Your Heart.
*Photo credit: Markus Spiske