Tuesday, February 1, 2022

Not Everything Glittery is Gold

 

Life Is the Diamond

“I say to people who ask if there is life after death: I answer not to be worried about that (even though for myself I know there is, for sure), but ask yourself rather, if there is life before death.”

Fr. Guidalberto Bromolini (“Make This Moment a Diamond,” in Parabola, Spring, 2022, p. 29)

          Father Guidalberto Bormolini is founder of Village of Everything is Life, outside of Florence, Italy. “It is a spiritual community, a school to teach others how to support the dying, and a hospice for those at the end of life.” (Parabola, p. 29) He is a priest, and a scholar of ancient and modern spiritual and religious teachings—everything from the ancient Hindu Mahabharata, to Gurdjieff, to the ancient Judeo-Christian teachings, to modern Buddhism. He speaks about death as a moment on a continuum of life.

          Having already said goodbye to all my family of origin, I can tell you this—people die as they have lived. If your life has meant something to you beyond the gaining of goods and services, if you have “spent” your time here in love with life, and feel good about how it has gone, then death is the same way—it is welcomed with gratitude and peacefulness. I’ve heard people say, “I’ve lived a good life,” and mean that they are at peace with the next step. If, on the other hand, you have lived life as an angry person, bitter with the cards you’ve been dealt, and resenting anyone who has not faced your challenges, death is harder—just one more disappointment in a long series of them.

          I believe, as does Father Bormolini, that death is a continuation of life. That after death of the physical body, you are a body of light recognizable as yourself, and with soul-tasks to accomplish in that realm just as you have here on this plane of existence. Where you begin there depends upon where you end here. So, the question comes back around to, “how am I living my life?”

Fr. Bormolini says, “I am here with you now. In an hour, I might not be here. So, what I am living now with you is the most important moment in my existence, because it could be the last moment.” (p. 36) The very brevity of life makes it precious. Even if we have just been born, and even if we live to be 100 years old, it is impossible to see and do all there is to see and do—we must pick and choose. And how we choose, and what we choose to give our minutes and hours to, makes all the difference.

          I, and most of my friends, have already crossed the threshold into the last quarter of life. Most of this lifetime is in the rearview mirror. We have entered the developmental stage called “letting go.” What we let go of, hopefully willingly, goes beyond our possessions, and includes our youth, our days of care-free lovemaking and child-rearing, our physical beauty and desirability, but also, our neurotic grasping and competitiveness and arrogance. We also gain enormously during this time—we gain in wisdom, spiritual strength, comfort in our own skin, the ability to laugh at ourselves, and acceptance of life’s gifts and responsibilities. It becomes clearer that life is for living, loving, joy and gratitude, and not about banking up anything material—not money, not possessions, not accomplishments or glittery prizes. Life itself is the diamond—living it well is the prize.

          Fr. Bormolini says this: “If you want this wine, you have to empty what is not precious from the cup, the things of low quality. In Egyptian hieroglyphics the cup symbolizes the heart. The heart must be free in order to be filled with the drink of immortality. The nectar of immortality. If we have this empty cup, then the divine can fill it to infinity.” May it be so.

                                                  In the Spirit,

                                                  Jane

P.S. The interview with Fr. Bormolini in Parobola, Spring, 2022, is well worth reading. It will comfort your soul.

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