Something’s wrong. I shouldn’t enjoy this much fun in Life.
Laughing so hard, the five of us had to hush up, quiet down to prevent diners at the other restaurant tables from staring at our ruckus.
What caused all the belly laughs and guffaws? God. Well, let’s say the Spirit of God. How about something ‘Spiritual, but not Religious?’ Would you believe “Mystical?”
Hold on. Keep an open mind. Four of us opened ourselves to the other, showing how much a meritorious act and indiscriminate compassion could lift another, to help ease discomfort, while recognizing the purpose of Life is to serve humanity any way we can, as unconditionally as possible.
Ginny saw “no significance” in the material aspects of Life when we met earlier in a formal group discussing death and how most of us try to run away from it. It’s all around us, this thing called death, and part of our daily lives whether we like it or not. Each breath is a new beginning while the outbreath is an ending. Each day, week and year end in a death of sorts — in a world that we don’t want to admit is impermanent and fleeting. We could die tomorrow and be unable to take anything with us — our homes, our families, our reputations. None will mean anything except to serve as a marker we had once walked this Earth over a span of a short 85 to 90 years at best.
Why be attached to something that has no meaning except how we might have helped others along the way?
That’s the key we focused on — Helen, Nathea, Cathy and myself — while turning such a topic as death into a joyous, almost hilarious, funfest as we discussed our reason for being and Ginny agreed.
We are to serve others, plain and simple. We will receive lots of love and compassion by simply providing such loving acts as smiling to a waitress, a nodding thanks to someone speaking another language, or telling someone you really appreciate how much they mean to in your journey, be it a trip you offer a friend with no car, or a person who uses a credit card when the restaurant rejects your plastic and she helps overcome what might have been an embarrassing situation. [Thanks, Ginny.]
We fell in love Sunday at the Sazon Venezuelan Restaurant, in Philadelphia — two African-Americans and two Greeks along with one woman of undetermined heritage, who “winters” in Florida. We met as a group having just made “offerings” at a Tibetan Buddhist Center, where we gathered as American as Americans could be the weekend before the Fourth of July, our Independence Day, not one of us held captive to any “cult,” or brainwashed to give away all our belongings and go to India..
Five novice Buddhists who wished nothing but the best for the entire world and the chance to be able to help relieve suffering in that arena.
And having one helluva time while at it, I might add!