Death, Faith, Inspiration & Reincarnation

When people we love pass away, it prompts a reflection on their life, a reliving of memories, a sharing of stories, and a reunion of hearts, souls, and spirits. More and more, I wonder why we don’t do more of this with the people we love while they’re alive. A powerful reminder to celebrate the people in our lives through love, pictures, memories, videos, and the retelling of stories now, rather than waiting for tomorrow. I’m certain there’s someone in your life you haven’t spoken to in far too long that you’ve thought about many times but for whatever reason, keep putting it off. Now is the time. And this was one of the greatest skills Nana taught all of us—celebration.  

She is a part of me, of us. She will always be a part of me, just like Papa will always be a part of me, of us. And the beautiful thing, is that we get to carry those spirits forward in shaping who we are and who we become in the world. It seems to reveal that none of us are truly “self-made.” That we are greatly influenced by many along the psychedelic adventure of life. And for many, none greater than their abuelos.

As I walk down the cobblestone street in Baño, Ecaudor, I can feel their angels guiding me. I don’t know where I’m going, but I know exactly how to get there. I turn the corner and casting a generous shadow, is a beautiful iglesia that must be 100’s of years old.

I continue adelante. The hymns from within reverberate in my bones. I am transported to the past for un momento, as the origins of faith in my adolescence unfurl themselves, carrying shades of ambivalence, confusion, and epiphany. I am in yet another other worldly casa de Dios for the 2^nd time in a week wondering how I got there or for what purpose …my mind speaks but something else drowns out the noise, ”I rarely go to church and I’m definitely not religious in the literal sense, esto no hace sentido.”

As I’m serenaded by the music & the vibrational force of all in attendance for mass, I find myself walking through another door that seems to have been built for another era, perhaps some time between Mesopotamia & the Mesozoic. And there, about a half a football field away, is another sagrada lugar, hiding in plain sight. It’s that place that seems to exist in just about all places for prayer, where we close our eyes attempting to transport from the inescapable velocity of our lives. Where “our God”, whether it be JC, Allah, Buddha, Shiva, Vishnu, the Sun, the Moon, or the Universe, is honored and on display waiting to receive whatever it is we’ve likely been holding onto for way too long. At which point, we bow our heads, say our prayers, and then unironically, use fire to light some sort of object representing our prayers.

In this case, it was una vela. And so, I lit one candle, and then I lit another. One for Nana, one for Papa, praying that their flames may burn bright together once again.

I stand there staring deep into innumerable flames, but that’s not what I see. I see everything but candles. I see a mother wishing for her son to come home for the holidays. I see a young girl wondering who her father is and why he left. A man whose dog just passed, and whose wife passed less than a year earlier, seeking a reason to keep on keepin’ on. I see a successful entrepreneur who has all the money in the world and seemingly has achieved everything one could want and yet, is searching for the meaning of life and wondering what’s it all for. I see, a teenage boy who’s asked for the new Nintendo Switch for Navidad every Sunday since New Year’s Day, unrelenting as jovenisto’s so frequently seem to be. I see a dog who’s hoping for a little butt scratch and piece of chicken. I see my grandfather in the viejito standing next me, and I can’t stop the cascada of tears that streams freely and overwhelmingly. I, like many of you, have been holding on to them for way too long. Carrying them in each part of my body. The same way I’ve carried traumas, stress, strong feelings, problems, and so many other things, deep within mi cuerpo, sometimes with awareness & intention, more often though, without.  

In este momento, the candle in front of me goes out.

My instinctual reaction is to use Nana’s fire to reignite life into someone else’s prayer, as she had done as effortlessly as water flows in a stream for so many of us. Nana lived the masterclass in sparking life in everyone no matter where she was or what the circumstances were. Nana, you are a work of heart. I can imagine you so vividly, dancing your way through heaven, aimlessly wandering through the next adventure for your soul without a care in the world. Using dance as a form of liberation as you always did, you free yourself from any pain or solace through the movement, and somehow continue to be an inspiration for the world.

Despúes de eso, the silence of the moment returns. It feels like an anvil, my heart beating fast enough to jump out of my body and run away. It feels as if I were packed into a small mochila and transported across the border crossing of reality, driving me deeper into myself.  Even now, writing almost not knowing what I’m writing or what comes next. What I do know, is that Nana would have reminded me to stop and smell the tulips, and not once, but all the time. To go catch a random show on Broadway and have an overpriced glass of vino at 4pm on a Wednesday in an empty bar. To go places I’ve never been before. To eat slowly and each touch of love infused in every bite. To enjoy the ride. To check in on myself. That despite the loss and pain that we may feel in the experience of loss, we’re not alone. There will always be people who care about us. And that God lives in us, as us. They say that the millions of cells in our body are constantly changing, dying, being renewed, and that every 7 years, every single living cell is different. The last few weeks have felt like a reincarnation of sorts. Every reincarnation feels like a new season, maravillosamente unico a su manera, often bringing a newfound sense of buoyancy, the way surreal or profound moments tend to influence our lives. Para siempre, vive sigue.

And so may we find a way to discover unresolved inspiration in our lives. To live more fully, with more vibrancy, laughter, and care-free spirit as Nana did. And re-engage in parts of our lives or people or things that harbor a deeper meaning to us, bring us closer to a purpose. Especially the ones that we’ve lost sight of along the way, blinded by the frenetic pulse of our surroundings, our problems, our work, our relationships. The representation of this reincarnation for me is in volunteering, giving back, learning from new people around the world, finding more joy thru movement & laughter, and better understanding my faith.

I believe one of the most difficult things is for us to really carry the spirit, the energy, and the courage of the special people we have loved and lost. To remember them. To honor them.

How will you choose to best honor the people who you have loved so dearly and lost?