The other day, I was running on the treadmill at the gym. My son was running along side me on his treadmill, when a question in my head popped in, and I thought of asking him. SO I did.

 

“ Son, how long after I die will you remember me?” I inquired.

 

Without a blink, this 14 year old said “ a year, maybe a little longer”.

 

I almost fell off my treadmill aghast with the response. I then thought of my young daughter. What would she say? For some reason the natural response her being younger than her brother would be like 6 months that came to mind.

 

I do not know why but this bothered me for a few days. I meditated, and contemplated on it deeply, but my mind could not rest. If the kids would forget me with in the span of a year of my death then I am quite sure that my friends would forget me in an even shorter span of time. Those closest to us will grieve of course, but then the natural course of life and time will keep moving forward and we become a distant memory. The younger a person is who loses a loved one, the sooner the lost person is forgotten, since there is more time of life to be spent away from the deceased in their lives.

 

This sounded horrible to me. You mean I will not be grieved for the entire life of my family or friends? How quickly we become a follicle of thought talked about in private conversations on rare occasions. The further we are away the faster the memory fades. We get busy with our own lives and try to find our own meaning of existence to worry about those long gone. In fact on average within 2 generations we are guaranteed to be forgotten permanently. My kids never knew my grandparents, who are now all but forgotten.

 

I could not put my finger on it, till. I had the awareness that it was not about the others, namely family or friends but myself that was the issue. It was “I” would had the attachment cord to them and so I was the one feeling the loss of that cord as “I” sailed away into nothingness. It was never about them. Everyone is just a story in our lives, and if we feel that we will be forgotten, then it is us who are holding on to the residual image of what we think and feel we are and want to preserve that at all costs. We are holding on to our own image !!!!

 

The Irony is that the image is dying everyday. If one does not believe it then look in the mirror. Are you who you were 30 years, 20 years, 10 years, 5 years, 1 year or even a month ago? NO ! We are dying in every moment. We are not the same person that we were even from a few minutes or seconds ago while reading this transmission.

 

When we are attached to who we are, then we cannot fathom that we can be forgotten. It feels like our heart is torn when we are not remembered. When friends or acquaintances do not reach out to connect we may feel slighted that they did not value our friendship, but when family who we thought were closer, even those of our own blood, fail to give us long term sanctuary in their hearts, then the pain of separation is greater. It is the loss of the connection that we crave.

 

Deeper still it is our own connection with our own heart space that we have not cultivated and it is this loss that is most painful. The remedy for this ailment and ache is not to abandon everyone in a fit of arrogance or wounding, but to foster a deeper connectivity with ourselves. When we remain complete and still within, there is no need for us to seek for attachment on the outside.

 

The cord we seek to create is with our own heart and in settling the mind. When we do this there is a mystery of life that is revealed. The connection was never lost and there is a greater network to which we are a part of. The universal whole is one. We are but threads of the same cosmic garment. We were never alone nor were we ever forgotten. We cannot be. How can light forget itself? It is the mask, the identity, the reflection of our shadow self, the persona, the clothing of our body that we live in that is forgotten. Perhaps remembered by old photographs, just like we recall experiences and events like the images of birthdays, holiday celebrations and vacations, usually happy times. But all the images are of body versions that have been dying since they were of baby form.

 

So stay close to your heart, detached to any one form of the self, but be the Self forever passing through day and night watching life as a series of movie reels on the big screen. You are just not the character, but the observer, the audience, the director, the producer of your own movie, your own life. You will always be remembered for the connection you leave behind. The legacy we seek is the feeling people have when they meet us, what we inspire in them, the impact that we have. The love that we share is far greater than the persona of who were, what we did. The how, the why, the what, the who, the when and the what are all laid by the roadside of life’s journey like used up garbage when we leave this blue green earth.

 

Love is the fabric that we are all made of and to which we return. Love is infinite, abundant and never forgets.

 

……………..

 

I love you