“Easter is the demonstration of God that life is essentially spiritual and timeless.”
~ Charles Crowe
Good morning and Happy Easter friends.
As I contemplated what I would express this morning, first and foremost, I was filled with gratitude.
When I was in my late 20’s and early 30’s my grandmother began sending me a collection of stone eggs, which she collected when she made a trip to the Orient after my grandfather died. This was her only trip, in her entire life, outside of the US.
Grammy sent me an egg, one per year, at Easter time.
I was living and working between St. Thomas and St. Croix at the time, and thus, the collection of eggs got spread out over many storage units.
Last fall, I finally integrated all my belongings. So this is the first year that all the eggs have been together. I was filled with such joy, when I pulled all of them out of their various boxes, each containing little notes from Grammy.
It’s been a long road, and these Easter eggs remind me what it truly means to “be at home with one’s self”.
My Grandmother was a very spiritual person. She gave me my first Bible – The Children’s Living Bible – filled with beautiful pictures. This version of the Bible still holds much greater meaning for me, than does my “adult” version. Which I’ve never read, by the way.
In her later years, my Grandmother would join the Mennonite Society of Christians, which was reflective of her love for genealogy, and her Pennsylvania Dutch background.
Yet she rarely spoke of the Bible. And I wish I knew more about why she was so fascinated with the Orient.
Those eggs seem to be calling me, beckoning me to gain a further, and deeper understanding of the similarities between the teachings of the Buddha, and the teachings of Christ.
Is this why my Grandmother made her pilgrimage of sorts to the Orient?
Yesterday, I wrote a poem, deeply questioning, who I am. I’ve already been through what is often termed “The dark night of the soul.” Had my Grandmother begun her own questioning, now apart from her husband, lacking a spiritual community at the time? I think I’ll spend some time today going through her letters to me, to see if I can find any clues.
And is not surprising to me to gain a spiritual understanding of why my grandmother would eventually pass with Alzheimer’s Disease.
Carolyn Myss writes of the 7th crown chakra: “The Seventh Chakra energy motivates us to seek an intimate connection to the Divine in everything we do. This spiritual desire for connection is significantly different from the wish for connection to a religion. Religion is rooted in 1st chakra energies. Spirituality on the other hand, is an individual experience directed toward releasing the fears of the physical world and pursuing a direct relationship with the Divine.”
Seeking a personal spiritual connection shakes us to our core. As we awaken, an internal voice of authority begins to compete with every external authority in our lives. This can throw us into internal turmoil, a spiritual Schizophrenia, or even Alzheimer’s.
Dr. Page writes: “The word consciousness means ‘to know’. And in our quest to fully incarnate our soul’s essence and hence develop total consciousness of the self, we are inspired with knowledge from many sources, and asked to develop wisdom by the active manifestation of this knowledge. To know something intellectually has no value, until it becomes manifest in this world.”
“In Alzheimer’s, the psycho-spiritual pattern is one of someone who “hoards” knowledge, without developing it into wisdom, causing an overload to a system whose memory bank is full. Short term memory is compromised, but it is possible to access distant memory through the use of music or color, which stimulates the right brain, rather than the logical and overstimulated left side of the brain.”
When my brother died suddenly in a car accident, I literally witnessed my grandmother begin to shrink into herself. Her knowledge had nowhere to go, and I was too young to help her. I’ve always wondered if this stress, coupled with an inability to come to grips with God’s will, triggered some type of hormonal change, which brought about the toxins that eventually shut the brain down ?
I was fortunate that she never forgot my name. We held a strong bond. And in the later years, I would just hug her and sit with her, holding her hand, and entertain where-ever and whatever it was that her wandering mind would go. I often felt free as a bird, as I would drift along with her sweet rambling ….
I was overjoyed to learn recently of a study going on over in Europe. A large family has a genetic pre-disposition to early onset Alzheimers, and they are just now working to induce early medicinal treatments, to see if they can stave off the progression of the disease. What a blessing.
So to finish up my tribute to my grandmother’s life, I googled for a Buddhist’s prayer on Easter. And what a lovely set of new resources I’ve been given, which no doubt I will be sharing with you over the coming months.
But it is the opening prayer, in my Children’s Bible, which truly speaks of my Grandmother’s life. And on the opposite page, is a young Jesus, sitting in a meadow, in contemplation, with a lamb by his side ….
So here is my Buddhist’s Poem for Easter …
The Twenty-Third Psalm for a Child
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Because the Lord is my shepherd, I have everything I need !!
He lets me rest in the meadow grass and leads me beside the quiet streams. He restores my failing health. He helps me do what honors him the most.
Even when walking through the dark valley of death, I will not be afraid, for you are always close beside me, guarding, guiding all the way.
You provide delicious food for me in the presence of my enemies. You have welcomed me as your guest; Blessings Overflow!
Your goodness and unfailing kindness shall be with me all of my life, and afterwards, I will live with you forever in your home.
My dearest Grandmother, thank you for your love, and all the wisdom and kindness that you so graciously shared with me over the years. May I live to be as good a person as you were. Until our souls shall meet again …
In gratitude,
Your only granddaughter
Victoria Lynn
