Eulogia

“Come to Me, all who are weary and heavy-laden, and I will give you rest.” Matthew 11:28 NASB

Rest – Walking. . . . . Walking.

The pure white sand between my toes as the crystalline waters lap against the shore.

There. There is a palm, its graceful neck arches up to heaven supporting the deepest blue sky my eyes have ever seen.   Now I know I am here—in the place that has always been in my mind. Now surrounding me.

Transparency. Shedding all the masks I carried. Emptying the bags I was given. What need have I of the trappings of another world? Their brand names left behind to be washed into the endless peace of the tranquil sea. I am here alone, in body, mind and soul. These are my last words, the eulogy of life written on the sand, soon to be washed away, carried off into the All of Being. I once was here. And gone.

Sitting.

It is warm, the sun and sand on my body. Years of guilt are scrubbed away by the infinitesimal grace of spiritual abrasion. I will be clean. I know it now. Weeping lubricates my metamorphosis. I cannot stand in this holy place. Even knees are too arrogant. I curl on the shore. Returning to the beginning. God’s invitation has finally brought me to His attention and now I will be cleansed. If you were there, somewhere down the beach, would you see only this naked old man sobbing in the sand? Or would you see him renewed, received to the Garden, prepared for the sacrifice of truth he so longed for? Just a man, perhaps a bit heretical, lying in the sand, doing nothing.

Doing nothing is the path of my true salvation. No longer on the wheel. No more fulfilling expectations. No need. This eulogia is about the wonder of living and the blessedness of dying. Reunited with the One who made me, I gladly give away my spirit. In the place of serenity, awe and overwhelming grace, I finally see me. The fig leaves fall from my eyes. He wraps me in light. I sparkle on the sapphire shore.

I am happy to have known you. Each of you pointed me in this direction. Each of you added to who I will now become. My life was constructed from the building blocks of your souls. It has been my honor to know you, even if it has been a personal disgrace to have hidden from you for so long. You persisted despite my fears. Perhaps this place of abrasion and renewal will teach me that my fears were never just mine. I carried them from the embryonic past and was never able to finally push them away. I came into this world already twisted. Now, at the end, I will be unbent. It is gloriously terrifying to be without my covering. “tetelestai” he said many years ago. Now it is my turn. aha

ha-kadosh baruch hu.

I lay down. The waters of the earth’s womb flow around me. I’m safe. I’m home. He calls.