Mar
12

Letter To Dear Readers

By

What follows comes from a letter I recently wrote to dear friends, Kathy and Gene St. Pierre,  a married couple who thirty-five years ago inspired Momo and me to attend a Marriage Encounter weekend.

The experience helped us smooth out a turbulent patch in our marriage.

Without Gene and Kathy’s help, Momo and I, our marriage, would undoubtedly have crashed and burned, the turbulence was that bad.

I’ve had chest congestion for the past week and it’s fogging up my brain.

I’ve been working on a new essay, but my foggy brain keeps me from completing it.

Today my friend thanked me for the letter with such enthusiasm that I decided to read it.

I thought “Hmm, with some modification this letter can become a letter to the readers.

And so, with Gene and Kathy’s permission, here I am scavenging their letter.  

A writer, Knut Hamsun, whose books I enjoy reading, when in his eighties, cynically wrote: “The advice of the old is like the setting winter sun: it sheds light but does not warm us.”

Hamsun’s cynical comment notwithstanding, I will post this blog and hope it sheds some light and warmth. 

LETTER TO YOU, DEAR READER

Momo and I are healthy and happy and hope you are too.

There is no drama in our lives.

One day follows the next, time passes, no anxieties, no fears; we just serenely move along accepting whatever comes our way knowing that it does us more harm then good to rage and complain.

At our age we have seen so many ups and downs that we finally get it, and I’m sure you do too.

Ups invariably follow downs so why worry, just wait it out.

I guess that as death finally takes hold and pulls us down into the ground we will worry that that is an ultimate downer, without an upper following it.

But, who knows.

I know I’ll die, but I’m less certain about what lies beyond the grave.

Is there only blackness?

Or are there Puccini Arias, morning mists in flower fields, love, ecstasy and authenticity.

I’m inclined to believe that after my death, my consciousness, my soul will expand into timeless infinity, into Primordial Energy, into God’s embrace.

I will experience infinite aha-moments as I become aware of all of existence–the path of every atom, molecule, every life form; every decision and every secret intention that was ever made and their causes.

And, Puccini Arias, morning mists in flower fields, love, ecstasy and authenticity will brim my soul with joy.

Lately, I dwell on death; the process of dying, what to expect afterwards, and in that context what I should do with the few grains of sand left in my hour glass.

And I’ve finally reached a conclusion.

The most important thing for me is to use the final fumes left in my tank to make life a little better for Momo, the family, friends, and strangers I meet on the street.

It makes it easier for me to curb my temper, when I consider, that if I don’t, I’ll unleash bad vibes that make life miserable for those around me.

Sometimes, of course, I still fail to curb my temper, although it happens far less now.

Failing to curb my temper proves that that is not a good strategy for making life pleasant for those around me.

It’s worse then shooting myself in the foot.

Well, these are just some thoughts I’ve accumulated in my heart, like moss clinging to the north side of a tree.

I hold them out for you dear reader as I would a fragrant rose.

I find it peculiar that the atoms and molecules can carry my thoughts to you but cannot carry the rose to you.

Perhaps in ten thousand years.

Send your comments to me, Neil Bezaire, at neil@slk.us. I would enjoy hearing from you. Attention will be paid.

 

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