“You still have things to accomplish related to why you were born, and my death will help you do them.” From the day my beloved took her life two years ago today, this message from her has illuminated every choice I make. Â
More than any other person this side of our guru, Dear has helped me to feel ever more fully the ocean of God’s presence. This intention we held in common pretty much since the day we met in 1974 and I fell in love with her in two seconds. I’m unable to count the number of people enriched by her warmth, her wisdom, her acceptance, her humor.Â
I once asked her if I could change the subject of something we’d been discussing a while at my request. She said, “Of course. I was done with that subject before you started.”
How does such a person choose suicide? I don’t know, really. My story is that something happened––a type of insomnia where the suicide rate approaches 100 percent––in which she could no longer feel love. Neither her love for others, nor their love for her. And most especially the presence of God, forever by far the most significant force in her life. She didn’t feel abandoned by God, or a victim of any kind. “I’m just empty,” she said fourteen months before she died, offering to God all she had left––her physical shell. With the utmost will to overcome the body’s natural impulse for survival she completed this incarnation. Â
Determination, courage, devotion to Spirit, I attempt to honor those qualities of hers by being as fearless as I can in following my heart.
Needing all the help I can get, about a year ago I asked a friend, one of America’s premier quilters, whether creating a quilt from Dear’s clothes was something she would consider. “Oh, absolutely,” she said. “It’s one of my favorite kind of projects.”Â
For all I know, the undertaking was orchestrated by Dear, so practical and heartfelt was my friend’s approach.
“You ship me every piece of Dear’s clothing available,” she began. “I’ll spread it all out in my studio and just live with it for a month, letting her spirit speak to me. Then you and I will talk. You tell me everything about Dear you want me to know. Once we’re both satisfied that we’re in harmony, I go to work.” Â
The spirit of my beloved that has been wrapped around me for nearly half a century now takes on a distinct tangible form, made all the more present by my long-time friend, photographer Wayne Calabrese. Â
I’m reminded of a conversation Dear and I had not two months before she died. We’d had many like it, for it began with her asking me to give her my best sense of what was going on. The essence of my answer didn’t vary much. All of us are given the precise spiritual adversity we need so that we may embrace the next step in our expansion to inevitable oneness with God. For those, like her, who enjoy such spiritual maturity, only adversity that demands surrender far beyond anything previously experienced or imagined will do. To which, through the pain of having lost almost every sense of herself, Dear offered a small grin and said, “Spiritual creampuff, that’s not me.”
Spiritual adversity. Thanks for this, Steve. I’ve had that experience and it has led me to a better place, deeper love, connections beyond what I believed capable of. But that wall I had to break through..oh, it was painful. Physically and spiritually painful. Death-wish painful. The only path was surrender. When I surrendered with acceptance, forgiveness, and gratitude, I was able to walk through the wall surprisingly easily. And I haven’t looked back. Oh, once in a while I’ll glance over my shoulder, but even that glance is destructive. So I keep my sights in the present moment and approach the next moment with a belief in the good and courage that the pathway will be cleared for me, wherever it leads. See how you’ve gotten my brain engaged this morning? Thanks again. And blessings.
The Quilt is as Devine as the being it envelopes. I wish you and your Love a wonderful journey 💕
Thinking of you today, Steve. Thinking of Dear. And thinking of all who love her. Her words of wisdom guide me daily. On one of our visits in her last year, she said to me “I know there are gifts in this for me, I just don’t know what they are yet”. I found this incredible. Gifts!? I thank her every day for changing how I experience my life.
Beautiful. Always making me think. Glad you are on the road. You will be a gift to any place that you visit.
Beautiful quilt and comfort of memories. I have a quilt I made out of Steven’s t-shirts which I cherish. May you cherish the warmth it gives you when you wrap yourself in it.
The quilt most definitely looks like Dear…💕 Thanks for sharing it…and your journey.
Thanks for sharing this Steve. So many words of wisdom. I’m so sorry for your loss, but, man, you sure have a lot of good memories. I wish you luck in in New Mexico.
Beautiful
Love and thanks
This picture…..has filled my heart with joy. Bless you Steve, and Dear….