It seems from what I can tell that this year has been one of reaping. I spoke about it in a class this week, that the reaping has within it the elements of great benefit, as in those that are gained from reaping the harvest, bringing in the gains of one’s investment and time and hard work, as well as the sharp pain of the cutting, the emptying out, the severing of one part from another. My sweet kind yoga friend passed from this plane this week, both expectedly and unexpectedly. For him I sang many rounds of the Maha Mrityunjaya mantra, the Great Death Conquering mantra, whose plea is that to either bring one back from the brink of death to stay with us here in this world, or if not, to let one be cut from the vine, reaped as it were by the great Harvester, bringing the delicious essence of the soul back into the continuum. To allow that cutting to be graceful, merciful, and perhaps even quick. Let the blade be sharp and true.
I feel Tom at my shoulder, behind me, above me, surrounding those of us who knew and loved him as well as those affected by him in more second- or third-hand ways. His genuineness, his insight, his experience, his enthusiasm, and just the weight of his presence, I feel them. The word “guru” can be translated to “the weighty one”. Tom’s very self carried weight to it. When he was in the room there was this groundedness, this feeling of warmth and steadiness. He was a quiet guru, a guru who didn’t ask or desire to be a guru; the best kind. And he always kept learning. He attended classes and trainings and kept growing himself. He was a guru by way of example rather than by telling people what to do or how to live.
I am so grateful to have had Tom in my life, to have him still. Thanks doesn’t touch it, but it’s what I’ve got. Thank you, Tom.
