Classified Information

Peaceful journeys, Domenico, Kaz, and Olga.

May your path be an easy one, Patricia, Yamina and Erica.

Rest well, Evelyn, John, Susan and Cecil.

And thus goes another of the Baroness' daily rituals - the reading of the obituaries. Of investing the whole 5 minutes or so a day that it takes to acknowledge that a person's life has ended, and to honor them by reading the oh-too-brief synopsis of their full, robust lives.

Do you think this is weird?

Most of my friends do.

Until we have "the chat".

You know the one?

The one where we sit and I try to rationalize my fascination with obituaries, and where they sit and stare at me, silently thinking "what the hell was I thinking, ever aligning myself with such a whack-a-doodle?".

Don't get me wrong here.

I'm not fascinated with death. I've had my cha-cha with mortality, and that's enough to do me for, oh, about another 40 years or so (32.92 more years according to actuarial data for 2010).

What I am fascinated by is life. Everyone's life. Because everyone, bar none, has a story. A story so worthy of telling and retelling. A story that brings each and every one of us from the cradle to our final place of rest.

I am in awe of how a life, no matter how spectacular or dreary, can be distilled down into an inch or so of type.

How does one decide what to put in? Who makes this decision? Has the deceased had the foresight to sketch out the broad strokes, so that no pertinent information is overlooked?

Oftentimes, the announcement is a creation of the director of the funeral home. They glean as much information as they sensitively can from the bereaved family, then awkwardly fill in the blanks from their standard lexicon of too-safe and stoic/tactful phrases. These are no poets, my friends.

Which is why we are left with a plethora of "Jane Smith, passed away peacefully....".

(I have already apprised my family that, when the time comes, should they put pen to paper and even dare to think to write the words "passed away peacefully", I will haunt their sorry asses for all eternity. Hell hath no fury like a Baroness scorned. )

(Peacefully, my ass.)

And while I acknowledge fully that death is a sacred rite, I just want to know why all of that good juicy information is often completed eclipsed by such a phone-it-in, trite opener.

Every once in a while, there is a tribute so original, so heartfelt, so obviously pouring over with love, I am deeply saddened that I never got the opportunity to cross paths with this glorious being.

I remember a conversation I had once with a friend while we were at a funeral. During the eulogy, we learned things about this person that neither of us were ever remotely aware of.

"Why", she wondered,"does it take us sitting here today to learn all of these amazing things about our friend?"

"Why couldn't we have honored these accomplishments, these attributes, these talents, while they were still alive?"

Why indeed.

Perhaps its time to cast a loving glance onto the lives of those who we think we know so well.

There may be some pretty praise-worthy classified information waiting for us to discover.

How About That?

Oh, I am feeling so smug.

Why, may you ask? Because as of today, I have 4 days' worth of posts queued up and ready to roll.

I am never usually this organized.

I blame coffee.

Wait, I love coffee.

I can't blame coffee.

It must be just like my highly personalized horoscope said - something about planets aligning and friends saying stuff and the guy in the place with the thing.

Yeah, I blame all that.

And this blaming thing makes me wonder - why I do feel the need to lay blame?

(Not really; I'm hardly that deep)

But it does segue quite nicely into our first holiday of the upcoming week:

Sunday, October 19th - "Evaluate Your Life Day"
A day? One single, solitary day? Oh, ho, ho - I think not. Are they freaking kidding me?

Or... maybe there are many of you out there who are in good places in the metasphere. You have solid friendships, loving relationships, and a serene and content soul.

Would you consider lending the rest of us a hand with this?

Because we, apparently, only have a day.

Thursday, October 23rd - "National Mole Day"
Please note that the Baroness has been gentle-hearted, and given those of you who needed it an extra 3 days to evaluate your life. (I, myself, have not finished yet - but I heard that the teacher is really easy, and won't take off any marks for late hand-ins).

At first glance, I thought this holiday might be an homage to the mole, a/k/a beauty mark:

(photo source here)

Or perhaps they meant the member of the mammal family Talpidae in the order Soricomorpha. You know, the animal? Like this fine fellow?

But no. It's even better than that! It has to do with an area of information near and dear to my heart.

That's right. Shoes.

Chemistry. This website, devoted to the mole, reminds us all that from 6:02 am to 6:02 pm, some nation, any nation will commemorate the contribution of Amadeo Avogadgro to the quantification of molecules of a particular substance. I won't give away too much, as I'm sure that all of you closet geeks out there want to fly your freak flag and go here to find out more.

I know that I wave my banner wild and free. I am proud to be ridin' white and nerdy.

Friday, October 24th - " Lung Health Day"
Not much explanation needed here. Who doesn't want healthy lungs?

For those of you out there blessed with clear airways, I strongly urge you to take a few deep breaths, and count yourself lucky.

This link from the American Association of Respiratory Care is informative and illuminating.

The Baroness knows quite a few people, young and old, whose lungs aren't quite like they used to be.

There's me, for one.

There's my dear blend Asthma Girl, who only developed breathing issues as an adult.

And then there's her:
Sure, they look healthy from the outside, but c'mon.

Can you imagine how squished her real lungs must be when she lies down? Yikes.

Saturday, October 25th - "Make a Difference Day"

I know for a fact that my readers are a fine bunch of people. They have hearts of gold and are very clever. This being said, I leave this to you to do what you think is best.

I will suggest this thought- even smiling at someone is considered Social Action.

As for me, I'll be at a charity soirée, and plan to make a difference by not only supporting our local hospital foundation by bidding on a multitude of Silent Auction items, I'll also be making a difference in the balance of our Visa account.

Which in turn makes a difference in the Air Miles we rack up. Which in turn makes a difference in the happiness quotient of our family as we squire Duke #1 back and forth to visit from school.

See how easy this can be?

Cling, Cling, Cling Went the Mommy....

Prologue
Here's a fascinating factum about the Baroness - I'm an e-mail hoarder.

This has the Baron rather worried, as he sees this tendency as a gateway towards more troubling, potentially dangerous hoarding. You know the one - where the newspapers and magazines are bundled up willy-nilly 7 feet high and create a maze throughout the hallways of the house.

He can rest easy - for now. What I'm hoarding is strictly information. Because I hate getting rid of something that I could potentially learn something from. Let me explain.

Every day, I get an e-mail newsletter from Yoga Journal - sometimes it's a "Daily Insight", sometimes it's a "Wisdom" piece.

It is virtually impossible for me to devote the time I need to actually read these articles with the intention and attention I wish to revere them with. So I fire them into my "To Read" file.

Another intriguing trait? I'm a little on the OCD side. Meaning, I had to get a certain number of these e-mails in my To Read file before I could begin reading them. On the day that I got to 52, (which means I could read and reflect on one per week), I didn't get the time to sit down and start, so I had to start all over again. The next magic number? 104. You guessed it, 2 articles a week.

Only this time, when I reached 104, I did have the time. And so it began.

Actual Post
The date of the e-mail is March 3, 2008.

The title of the article is "Embrace Reality", penned by a certain Frank Jude Boccio.

The gist of the article refers to non-attachment and equanimity and how they relate to Buddha's 5 Remembrances (see below).

What I find most compelling about how all these things came together - Duke 2 being away, me secretly pining for his happiness and enjoyment, Duke 1 readying for leaving home, me finally getting down to reading this swack of e-mails - is the exquisite timing of it all.

It cannot be mere coincidence.

The sentence which hit me like a bolt from the blue was this one:
"Once you accept the reality of impermanence, you begin to realize that grasping and clinging are suffering, as well as the causes of suffering, and with that realization you can let go and celebrate life. The problem is not that things change, but that you try to live as if they don't."

Wow.

This is something so simple - so incredibly commonsense - yet so soul-stirring and revolutionary for me.

My clinging, my wishing my boy-men could always stay within hug's length of my heart, my hoping that things between us would always be the same - it's all for naught. For to move ahead, to grow, to experience, to evolve, we must be in a constant state of flux.

Another quote I loved:
"As your insight into impermanence deepens you start to see the truth of the "no-separate-self." When you can extend beyond the limits you've created you see that your life is not really "yours" but all of life itself manifesting through you."

Yes. Manifesting through you - in a state of impermanence.

I do not have ownership of my children; I'd like to call them mine, but while they are but a infinitesimal part of me, they are truly their own beings, with their own paths to walk.

I am now starting to fully appreciate the wonder and awe of having them share our lives for a time, but I am also starting to accept that impermanence is a fact of living.

And that fact is far more fascinating than hoarding or strange rituals, don't you think?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Five Remembrances

I am of the nature to grow old. There is no way to escape growing old.

I am of the nature to have ill health. There is no way to escape ill health.

I am of the nature to die. There is no way to escape death.

All that is dear to me and everyone I love are of the nature to change. There is no way to escape being separated from them.

My actions are my only true belongings. I cannot escape the consequences of my actions. My actions are the ground upon which I stand.
by Thich Nhat Hanh in The Plum Village Chanting Book (Parallax Press, 1991)