Five minutes before my first yoga class in Costa Rica, I found out that my favorite Uncle died. I was doing a quick check of email just to make sure I didn't miss any Skype calls from family or friends in the States. The yoga studio had a gorgeous view of the Central Valley, and my sticky olive green mat was already popped into the best spot on the floor. My Macbook Pro was too enticing... I should have been pre-stretching.
The first reaction to death is, of course, shock. I thought, "I'm still going to take this class." The email was a mass one sent from family, saying that he had passed at 3 pm that afternoon. Eddie was a fiery little Puerto Rican, who had dedicated years of his life as a Union labor organizer in New York City. His wife helped found Doctors without Borders. Both were top of their class in consciousness, compassion and the limitless of the human soul. Whenever I would go to New York, I would stay with Eddie.
We got each other.
"Child's pose," the yoga instructor, Jacob, called out calmly. I padded to my mat, and hunkered down ungracefully, heart clouded. Maybe I'd dedicate this practice to him. My body felt more delicate than normal... fragile, temporary. I rolled into my first downward dog struggling to focus on my index and thumb, pushing downward. Just stay in the moment.
The flows began to move more quickly, sweeping us through Sun Salutation into the Warriors. Eddie had died of brain cancer, diagnosed only two weeks prior. A warrior. He hadn't wanted anyone to see him that way, so the last time I'd seen his smiling face was in March for my show in New York. He came to the Saturday evening performance, drank wine at the reception, and kissed me goodbye. Sweeping him away into the sun.
The yoga teacher was extremely good. Jacob was clearly a poet, and his mellifluous voice rang out clarity with precision. In Utkatasana: "Feed that fire, and use it to light this rainy day." My thoughts kept tugging me away, but still I stayed... through Triangle, and Tree and twists.
It wasn't until Savasana (corpse pose) that it finally hit me.
"Here you are. You made it, alive, a vibrating sphere of life here in this space," Jacob whispered.
And that's when I knew that I was alive, while Eddie was not.
Oh, his energy was alive somewhere, I had no doubt. Perhaps one of his atoms would pass mine on a windy day, causing me to look up and wonder at the electricity in the air. Or maybe I would feel him in the notes at the Symphony, as an uplifting climb of a piccolo. But none of these would assure me it was him and not the magic of the world. How would I ever catch a feel of the specifics of him, that ridiculously charming man with a smattering of atoms unlike anyone else?
I was alive.
And claiming the right I had of being alive, I cried in Savasana until the class was over, tears wiped away like rain.
Blessings to his beautiful spirit and those around him. He has left a legacy here on this plain ready to continue it on the next. Namaste.
Fear of Death