My good friend’s house is no more. He bought the empty lot and then built a lovely home back in about 1982 or 83. Although larger than to my liking, the hardscrabble grounds he painstakingly transformed from rocky and desert-like to a flowing, terraced outdoor park. It was always a treat to stop by for lunch on the patio, where the views offered a peek-a-boo of the Pacific Ocean. And while Malibu is home to many in the entertainment industry, they all share a common 24/7 concern. That of fire. A fire that travels faster, spreads further and is uncaringly destructive to whatever should be in its path. The firefighters tried, retardant was dropped from planes and people were evacuated under very strict and urgent orders: Get out now.
His home is now rubble. Nothing left. If you stop for a moment and consider the impact, the emotional response of forever losing the things you have accumulated over the course of the last forty years, you might get close to the reconciliation necessary to carry on. The only thing I can compare this to is the day that the sale of my cabin, after thirty years of mortgage payments, insurance, maintenance, expansion, improvements, and all the living that goes along with it, was finalized. I was walking out of the home equity bank after the final signature when an overwhelming numbness descending upon me like a thick fog. I stopped walking and stood silently in the attempt to understand what was happening. I started to cry. I was that sad over the strange turn of events that had created this sorrowful scenario. God, my cabin. Was gone.
The Buddha tells us that all things are impermanent and even when things are desperate and dire, seemingly impossible and bleak, that they too shall pass.
I got over my puny little loss. Although there are times when a old memory pops uninvited into my consciousness causing a bee-like sting to my ego. Or heart. Or soul. When the memory bee shows up a buzzing and looking for sentimental honey, I am most always able to dodge its sting. What’s done is done. What was once as solid as rock, crumbled into oblivion. My plans dashed and my dreams shattered, the only relief I find is remembrance of the truth in the Buddha’s, (or Solomon, or Sufi, or Jesus’ words). This pain, this suffering, this hardship, the reality of the human condition, will all pass into nothingness as well.
And we carry on. We rebuild. We take the lessons of the past and apply them to our future endeavors. We get over the loss. We try to find strength from the experiences that call on our response for positive outcome.
The truth, in my opinion, is that each of us will one day, and in way or another, have to come to an understanding with the reality of this truth. Nothing lasts forever. Still, there are days when this is an easy pill to swallow, it makes perfect sense and down to the cellular level I agree. There are those times, however, when I wish it had ended differently. This I feel is normal, something everyone reconciles.
I don’t know exactly how my friend feels today. I can guess. I wish there was some secret that I could share with him to lessen the sadness and loss he surely feels. I could tell him that however much it hurts, no matter the level of pain and regardless of the emotional carnage he feels today.
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