I am awaiting word of my sister's passing. She is in hospice care and down to her last hours or perhaps days. She has always been my big sister, even after I grew much taller in height. She was always the creative one, the artistic one. While I majored in Political Science, she majored in art. When we were little, she colored on my paper. There was no meanness in it. She knew that my paper needed her help. There were only 18 months between us and I've really not known the world without her being in it.
On the other hand, at the age
of 7, I took apart her sewing machine and it never worked again. That
taught me valuable lessons that I've never forgotten. Pay attention to
the details. Know the whole of a thing and understand how it works or
how it is supposed to work before you commence in taking it apart. Each
and every thing has meaning. Take care with the whole of it. It matters.
am reminded of a Zen story. The master was dying. His disciples were
gathered around him, crying, "Master, master, please don't leave us." He
looked up and asked, "Where do you think I'd go?" And the truth of us
is that our individuality is self-deception. We are intimately entwined
in each other. There are no boundaries between us except those that our
delusions have created. Skin? Thoughts? Are there any real boundaries
that defines us if we choose to live within a broader view of our
My wife tells me to avoid power tools for the
rest of the day. That's good advice when under some level of stress.
The worst part of my sister's disease was that it impaired her creative
capacity. For the rest of you, please:
Make, fix and create...