Sitting with my iPad on a bench at Wangapeka looking down the valley: cicadas clicking, waning sun pouring buttery afternoon light on Jones Ridge. Those of us who knew Cecilie have just shared in the preliminary Bardo prayers done for the first 108 hours after someone’s passing. They are intimate. You imagine yourself whispering in the ear of the body of the departed one, resting on her right side. We sat together in silence after that and opened to the ruby jewelled light of Amitabha, aware of Tarchin and Mary in Queenstown and many others joining together at a distance at this time.
Cecilie was my friend, my Dharma sister, my worthy opponent. I loved her; she could be utterly exasperating! I failed her and judged her many times. She was once so angry with me she didn’t speak to me for two years! We were honest with one another. We loved each other. I celebrate her, and honour the compassionate strength of those closest to her who have shared these extraordinary months of her leave-taking.
Follow her example: survive, take risks, overcome, create, transcend. Above all, love fiercely and constantly.