As the years go by and the mileposts of our lives add up, it can become a greater challenge to find those moments of pure childhood bliss. Now mind you my life is full of joy and bliss, but I’m talking about the innocent kid on Christmas morning feeling. I’m talking about that first day of a vacation at the beach with all your cousins feeling. I’m talking about the first lick of a Baskin-Robbins mint chocolate chip ice cream cone on the hottest day of summer with your Dad holding you by the hand feeling. Remember what that feels like? That sense of joy that reaches every corner of your soul?
Today we will celebrate Easter with family and friends in our home. It was a decision we made well over a month ago. Many of our holidays are spent traveling between families, between homes and even between states. This time around we wanted to host. We sent out an invitation with the comfort of knowing that we would be content whether nobody came or everybody came.
The first time we hosted a holiday in our current home was two years ago at Easter. It was about a month after we had moved into our current home and it was eleven days after the death of my friend Richard. Richard was supposed to be at that Easter dinner. It was going to be the first time he saw our new home. It was the home that was less than 3 miles from his own own home. It was the home that was going to afford us many opportunities to ride to work together, to meet in Andersonville for drinks or to walk in the parks along the Chicago River. None of those things ever happened, but so much more has…
Last year at Easter we traveled to the Notre Dame de Chartres Cathedral south of Paris, France. We spent the holy weekend with Richard’s wife Rhonda and on the Saturday before Easter Sunday we set Richard free. We carried out his final wish, which was to have his ashes spread in the grass behind the cathedral overlooking the labyrinth in the garden. I can only think that his choice not only served his desired purpose to rest, but also our need to reflect on the symbolism of the twists and turns in the labyrinth that we would all face in our lives going forward.
The journey to France last Easter and the stories that came from the pilgrimage taught me so much. They continue to teach. He continues to teach. Like all great Spiritual teachers, Richard’s story grows in magnitude as he transcends to the other side of the veil. I am blessed to carry on in the work within the guidance of so many. I used to identify my Spirit Angels exclusively by the human forms I remembered them as. Now I identify them as One.
So on this Easter morning I awoke with a great sense of peace. I took great comfort in knowing that my family and close friends would be coming to celebrate and break bread with us. We had worked hard in the week leading up to the weekend in preparing our home in a way we had never prepared it before. This dwelling which at points looked very much like a transitional milepost in our life has instead become and important pillar in our story. It will continue to be our home for an indefinite period going into the future. We have grown in this home and we have grown because of this home. The stories yet to unfold have limitless possibilities. We are grateful.
Last night I hit the wall well before my wife Christiana. I fell asleep reading in bed shortly after dinner with my list of tasks complete. Christiana had a full day with her sisters taking photographs in their wedding dresses. Her task list had a few things left to attend to so she stayed up and worked away. I’m so grateful for her efforts because when I crawled out of bed this morning it was the first time in over forty years I had that the Easter bunny came while I was sleeping feeling.
The table was set perfectly. Easter baskets had been prepared for the guests. Jelly beans filled bowls that sat on top of our new vintage sidebar. Eggs had been hidden around the house in places I am still finding and enjoying. As I stood and looked out across the dining room area of our home I reflected on how much our lives have changed in the last two years.
I reflected on how this Easter holiday stretch has become a series of three very important mile posts in my life. At the first milepost was the excruciating grief of the loss of my teacher. At the second milepost was the awareness of how the labyrinth would teach me about the twists and turns of letting go. At the third milepost, this morning, I awoke with the innocence of a child and the heart full of joy as I accepted that it is time to be re-born into a new divine purpose.
In a two year period I have learned many things. One of the most powerful things I have learned is that even when the dark is at it darkest, The Sun always rises. On this Easter morning I’m a kid in a candy store, I’m at the beach with all my cousins and I’m eating mint chocolate chip ice cream with my Dad. I am blessed with the deep sense of knowing that the words will always be there, that my voice will be heard when and where it is needed and that my Guides will never abandon me. I am at peace basking in the light of Love, Joy reaches every corner of my soul and everything is exactly as it is supposed to be…