What s underneath must be the real prize anyway when I shed a layer of my personality. I m getting glimmers of it out of the corner of my eyes. It s more than just being a content, happy camper in a wheelchair, glad just to be alive with food and a television. There is something deeper in all of us waiting patiently to be discovered, waiting for the din of everyday life to quiet. For me, it was a new acquaintance as well as an old friend.
Every fleeting encounter leaves a dejavu-like memory.
Each tragedy, life crisis or just the upheaval of the norm is an opportunity to go into and know this deeper part of ourselves. The journey is not comfortable at first but it must be a valid avenue in the returning Home process that is a major tenet of every religion. I finally started to feel more at home in 1998. My friendships were richer, my ability to give and receive love had deepened. When I really go on to the happy hunting ground, I trust the life that flashes before my eyes won t be filled with how much money I made or my position in society, but remembering the wonderful relationships I had and how much love I gave and received.