Padmini lives and works as a teacher in Los Angeles. Some years back, she hosted an OSHO Sammasati workshop in the large and elegant place she calls home that overlooks the Pacific Ocean.
One of four girls, Padmini writes of the death of her eldest sister, Dianne, earlier this week (Monday, July 3rd) in Boston, USA….
‘Dianne passed away Monday night while I was flying back to California after spending a week with her in Boston. I knew when I left that I’d never see my eldest sister again – she was a mere wisp in a body ravaged by uterine cancer.
‘ “Existence has its own timing,” I heard Osho say so many times, and so I trusted that I could leave her side and not miss her, that she would be with me no matter what. Her illness, which had been held at bay for a year, gained momentum the last weeks of her life. Transformed into an ethereal beauty, extreme thinness revealed her face’s lovely bone structure, and she seemed to glow from within. When we parted, I’ll never forget how she briefly protested, grabbing my hand with startling strength and holding it for a long time in a physical expression of our mutual affection.
‘Based on what her husband, Pete, related soon after I landed in Los Angeles, she left her body about an hour earlier, at a time when I was watching the sun set over the West. It was the most beautiful view in the flight, yet I could have missed it. A sliver of light beneath the jet’s window shade awoke me. I had forgotten that by traveling 500 miles per hour toward the sun, the solar clock shifted. Looking out below the vestiges of a day destined for transitions, we passed the New Mexico-Arizona border, a sumptuous pewter grey landscape of inlaid silver rivers wending this way and that. Off toward the Pacific, the full sun paused on the horizon, a saturated red orb teetering on a precipice, losing its luster moment by moment.
‘I couldn’t know then that Dianne was about to cross a horizon line of her own, entering an invisible spectrum where finite and infinite meet.
‘I remember the tiniest thought as I gazed out the jet’s window flying over my birthplace, where the earliest memories of our relationship began. An idea that settled upon my thoughts lightly, too small to count among the practical powers we invest in the mind, has invaluable significance to me now: the notion that Dianne’s bedridden spirit might rise up to witness with me the majestic spectacle of this sunset. I invited her to joyride over the landscape of our childhood, breathing in the profound beatitude of the perspective, filling our bellies full of sun, and breathing out overwhelming gratitude and wonder that high altitude inspires.
‘Through a mystical window beginnings and endings met and my sister and I soared.
‘Living in a world that moves on without acknowledging delicate threads that pull at our consciousness, connecting us to one another, my path drew nearer my sister in stillness and quiet. I celebrate Dianne, lacing these words through my heart, letting tears of acceptance and connection flow. Yes, existence has its own timing, and I’m glad I was awake enough to recognize the nearly imperceptible call to join my sister up high above our world as her spirit took flight. Bon voyage Beloved, till we meet again!’