Last Sunday, a gorgeous burst of light named Wayne Steinart seemingly left the world. I know this gem back from my early days as a Producer at Disney Online. He ended up marrying another co-worker, one of my favorite mega-hot 5’10″ blondes, Miss P. They were the kind of couple I wanted to be in at the time – effortless, mind-blowingly well-matched, and crazy in love. Right about the time I settled into my marriage to that very dream guy, she loses hers. It’s been heart-wrenching. But I’ve used it as a chance to go deeper into what it really means.
What does it mean to die? I had oodles of time to ponder such things as I zipped off to LA in a puddle jumper plane, connecting through Palm Springs (the only way I could get there on short notice during the holidaze.) It led me back to that core question – what are *we*, anyway? Separate, identity filled beings, or big cosmic jokes? Both, apparently – but one is closer to the Truth.
As I sailed through skiffs of effervescent clouds, looking down on their shadows as they waltzed across mountain tops, I marveled at how real at all seemed. At how real *I* seemed. And yet when I try to pin down that concept – that obligatory “I” – there is nothing there but a sense, a wish, a wannabe. When I go into this essence I label as mine, it’s evident “I” don’t own it at all – it’s just the apparent perspective, this first person view. What’s more real is that oneness. There is nothing about “my” identity that is any different from anyone else – just an identification with a handful of specific traits. Yet I can be any / all of the roles that I see playing out before me – it’s just impossible (so it seems) to play them all at once. And so there’s a choice – whether it’s mine or Divinity’s, I don’t know – to be a certain aspect of the All, in every moment. But that seems that the big haha-I-got-you is this — the notion of “me” is just an aspect of the All. I felt the undeniable reality that I am Divinity – every last cell of it. Everything is possible. It’s just that I can only see one tiny sliver of What Is.
So as I found myself missing Wayne, aching for his widow, and wishing peace for all of us who don’t really understand this crazy life-game, there also played across my lips a gigantic smile. Something really magical is always, always at play – when I fall into it, the gray matter is blown to bits with the love divinity has for me. It IS me. Many of us play this wild game of self-destruction and apparent self-loathing – yet, it seems, we are really, really on to something — this is the very crux of awakening, it it is allowed. There is no “me” to hate / destroy. That’s only an idea. As I flew to be with my old work family, I kept thinking, “We came from somewhere, perhaps that’s where we return.” But it feels now as if I was missing something – we are were we have always been. There is no coming and going – no life and death. Just the perception of. Trying on different masks. Wearing different parts of our whole. What else could oneness do but pretend to be separate? It feels like the only way to realize that there is oneness after all.
And so I thanked Wayne, sincerely, for being a piece of the oneness to help me fall further into the truth. The visitation, therefore, felt wonderful – even in its massive sadness and injustice. Those can fit into the idea of oneness – because if all is Divine, EVERYthing fits. There’s nothing to do or undo – just authenticity, however that feels in every moment. It was extraordinary hugging all those beautiful souls and thinking – “I love you. Me. Us. I love.”
And yes, it seems to be true that beings come and go, but those in the current view, I see clearly that those are only aspects our ourselves that keep popping up and disappearing. Think about it – the All would have a lot of facets, a lot of roles to play. Infinite possibilities. That makes for a chaotic play, you know? And we, as the apparent separate consciousnesses that fall in love with the idea of ourselves, and those around us – man, we fall to pieces when favorite parts come and go. But lest we think we are crying for those that have apparently “passed-on.” We are crying for the idea of ourselves, desperately missing those to whom we have attached. And, of course, the fear of that great mortal unkown – because we can’t know, until we’re there – and then we’re lucky if “we” are still conscious enough to take it all in.
I sit here now and fully own these beautiful concepts. I don’t feel like Kitty. I feel like the eyes/ears/nose/mouth/touch of consciousness, playing out the very specific actions and emotions that it wants to place in the world. Makes it clear why authenticity is so tethered to the Divine, no matter what it looks like – this is what “it” wants to be. God, the universe, divinity – whatever you want to call it. It’s moving through each of us, as apparent separate beings, with a bold and boisterous acorn of intention. When that’s repressed, in my experience, it feels like poo. When it’s released, it feels like. . .aw wow, just fucking perfect. It’s so much better to be authentically sad than inauthentically happy. And so even though there’s some awareness of this magical drama that’s unfolding, this wannabe “I” willing goes into the grief of loss. It’s impossible to know if and when I’ll ever see the uniqueness that was Wayne again. And that hurts, because he just rocked. So that is true, but so is the illusion of it all.
What a freaking beautiful paradox. Let’s all love this perfect mystery, and every facet of it – ie everyone in it.
“Is your place in heaven / worth giving up these kisses?” – Tori Amos
Bet he’s a great bassist now!