61 days to go...

I experienced three dimensions of time today, my mother’s, my daughter’s and my own.

My aging mother told me on the phone today that she felt that her time in life is running out. I asked her how she felt in her spirit and soul. This was uncharted territory for discussion because usually in my family we restrict our talk to tangible, physical, and practical things.

She appreciated my question though, and we discussed her feelings about preparing for dying, about the uncertainty of what happens when we die, and the importance of hope and trust. We reflected together about our souls being eternal and huge, and about the good life she has had. We agreed to continue our talk tomorrow on Christmas day.

Meanwhile, my daughter’s life was unfolding like a flower, and she was keen to learn new things. Sharing activities with her was wonderful, and we both appreciated it, especially when we could each other enough space and understanding in our interplay.

She asked me tonight that I should not sleep late. This is what I have done regularly when completing my daily blog posting. I found that late night is a quiet and peaceful time to write.

For myself, I experienced the benefits of decluttering today. I reorganized the book shelves I use most often, and regrouped my books by topics, like on writing, wellbeing, relating, health, Tao, Zen, love, poetry, travel, fiction, and several others.

I rediscovered so many nice books, and I also selected about one third for disposal. Those are now piled up in the store room for the next garage sale.

Some books and photo albums brought nice memories of earlier times in my life. I was happy that I could appreciate them without feeling melancholy. Most of all, I felt refreshed and renewed, with more positive energy in the room.

One of the books I have been reading lately is Sogyal Rinpoche’s The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying. After talking with my mother today, I felt that I should pay more attention to this book, which seeks to empower us in our journey through life and death, and to advise and support those who are close to that final passage.

Photograph: Decluttering my room.