I love my Mansion Medication Class and believe the residents like it, too. We’ve come a long way since almost everyone slept through the class. Everyone stays awake now, and we talk openly about life, fear and acceptance.
I hope it’s good for them. It’s undoubtedly good for me. They keep coming, and they now love meditating while we are together. The class has been enriched by the new presence of Maria, who comes with poems and other things to read.
This morning, I talked about how we can learn to accept the nature of death and see it as an evolution, not a destruction or disappearance.
I read again to the residents from Thich Nhat Hahn’s book “Fear,” in which he writes about fear of death being human being’s greatest and most universal fear.
“We need to return to ourselves and embrace our blood and spiritual ancestors,” wrote Hahn. “We cannot get rid of them. They are a reality, and they are there inside us, body and soul, and spirit. Unconditional acceptance is the first step in opening the door to the miracle of forgiveness.”
Think of a plum tree,” wrote Hahn. “In each palm on the tree, there is a pit. That pit contains an infinite number of plum trees. The plum pit contains an infinite number of palm trees. Inside the pit is an intelligence wisdom that knows how to become a plum tree and produce branches, leaves, flowers, and plums. It cannot do this on its own. It can do this only because it has received the experience and adaptations of so many generations of ancestors.”
Good parents were raised well; bad parents were treated poorly and treated their children poorly. Forgiving the bad parents is essential to accepting life and moving on.
(Maria starts our meetings now by reading a poem she has chosen, this one from our friend Mary Kellogg, who died years ago.)
The residents enjoy these readings; they are talking about the loss of family and friends and their worries about dying. We laugh, we cray, we share. I hope it is good for them; I know it is good for me. The cruelty and hostility of our world are familiar to them, and for the first time, they are at ease talking about how to accept death and not only fear it. I like the Plum Tree analogy; it was interesting.
I’ve been working at the Mansion for over seven years, and I have never seen a warmer, more loving, or more empathetic aide than Robbin. The residents love and trust her.
We need about ten more “ugly” Christmas sweaters for the upcoming “Ugly Christmas Sweaters” Party. I’ll round up the last few, and thanks to the Army of Good for sending some of theirs.
(Paryese, The Mansion, 11 S. Union Avenue, Cambridge, N.Y., 12816. I’m happy to report that the Christmas tablecloths and plastic covers have arrived and will be on the dining room tables before Christmas. Thanks for your support.
Jane is an artist who paints and draws daily—this photo of her beginning a child’s face.
Robin and Jane head for the dining room. The Mansion is a loving place; I’m grateful for the chance to work and volunteer there.