The Sacred Hours

It is early morning. Very early. The time when silence sits on the cusp of sunlight and birdsong.

The time of day when making chai by candlelight is sacred. The time of morning when God sits closer and dead friends seem near.

There is something comforting about these hours that brings me back to a community I once lived in, a place of long walks taken to share tears and laughter with a friend who understood what it meant to be human in all our complexity. Friends that listened. Friends that looked you in the eye from the depths of their soul. Friends that knew what it meant to sit together and enjoy a cup of chai while watching the children go by. Friends that understood the benefits of agni sara, the neti pot, a walk around the Shrine, and a homemade chocolate chip cookie.

This was a place where one learned to move, breathe, sit, and rest… all in preparation for that final savasana. A place called the Himalayan Institute. A place I once called Home.

In the last year, five of the brightest lights of this community have died, passed away, transitioned, or simply taken their last breath. Each one had held space for me, and so many others in some form or another. Their eyes filled with understanding as I wept in sorrow at my own losses, or struggled through my own personal challenges. Their smiles and laughter and hugs cheering me on when the softness and gifts of life were bestowed upon me. Each one of these people shaping me into the woman I longed to become, simply by seeing me.

Marcia, a spitfire of tenacity and the very definition of a friend. Rolf … the epitome of sattva, kindness, inner balance, and understanding. Ms. Fi’… ahhh, Ms. Fi. Joy incarnate. Beauty and soul. Reave…a musician, a southern gentleman complete with a drawl that lit me up each time he smiled and asked, “How ya doin’, darlin’?”

And most recently, Stephen, a man who challenged me to do better, to stay on point, and who stood by me when it called for it. A friend who would sit in my office freely sharing his time, his wisdom, his stories. He taught me what it meant to be a leader in a dynamic community. Stephen passed away yesterday morning, after a heartfelt battle with pancreatic cancer. The last time I saw him, he left me with this.. “Quality over quantity.” He meant it then…. I understand it now.

Each of these friends were yogis, perfectly human in their beauty and their flaws. People who cared about me, and the community that we shared, people I loved deeply, people I will miss and smile for each time they cross my heart.

This morning, in the sacred stillness of sunrise, I light a candle, and an offering of my love, my gratitude, and whispered prayers of peace for their families and friends into the havan of my own heart.

It has been a privilege for having been blessed to not only have known such wonderful people but to have lived and walked beside them in the extraordinary world of community and tradition.

~ Leora

Essay & Painting by ~Leora