This afternoon, a friend asked if she could come by to spend some time with me in stillness.
Two days back, she got the news that her grandmother passed away» on the other side of the globe. They were very close, and due to some duties in the coming days, she couldn't leave right away to be by her side.
I am a priest. Although we are opposite sex and I actually don't know her well, there was a resonance (共鸣) in values that connected us. She had attended a few gatherings that some friends and I hosted, and her attendance had always added a gentle and friendly atmosphere to the circle, and in the talks she'd find herself in. I was touched by the way she asked for help — and her intention to spend time in silence and in a sacred space to honor and connect with her grandmother.
I was very busy that day, and I was already behind on a few deadlines. I had hoped to work late on to catch up. But it was so clear to stop and make time for this. This friend has such a modest personality, and I could tell it had been an uncertain couple of days since she received the news. "Of course, come by please," I told my friend.
When she arrived a couple of hours later, I handed her a cup of tea. It was 5:30 pm. She had wanted to sit in silence to honor her grandmother first, but because she had missed eating lunch, she gently brought a container of leftovers to share an early dinner instead.
I listened to her memories and stories. Her grandmother was the joyous community elder and had experienced the peaks and valleys in life with a lightness of heart.
After the meal, we sat together in stillness for an hour. When it was over, daylight had been absorbed by the night sky.
