I have many, many chances to wait for help every day –and this also gives me
            opportunities to give thanks for the constant help I receive. It is not
            everyone who gets to have that much help all the time. I visit with several
            friends every week that I would otherwise be too busy to see that often.
            They take interest in me and follow my weekly progress. So much help
            around and so much time to take advantage of it –who else can say that?

It is also the occasion that -when I remember- I can pray to my angels, to ask
            them for help, to work on -cultivate- again and again my consulting with
            the spiritual world, so how wonderful that I should have so much time to
            practice! (If I remember as a musician how much work and time it took to
            learn music -practicing- then I should not be surprised to find that
            developing an art to praying and investigating my inner thoughts -listening
            to those inner thoughts and feelings- should take that kind of commitment
            and time –not so easy at all.)

                        And Rudolf Steiner talked about, the "I" differently. He said that
                        the "I" we are speaking of here is separate from the body and from
                        feelings… it is something infinitely more subtle…Can you go to the
                        place of experiencing that "I" directly?)

Healing is going through the eye of the needle. It is going through the torture and
            pain, sweating it out drop by drop, and watching the whole time from the
            seat of the soul.

Healing is being brave enough to be joyful –when all else makes you want to
            scream or be crabby to your loved one or when you really want to dig in
            your heals and be mean at all life.

Healing is having the courage to shine as a bright light for yourself as well as for
            others.

Healing is laughing.

May all people be at peace. May all people be healed from suffering. May all
people be of one spirit. May all people experience love and joy.

Sink deep into the lower chakra. Breathe. Go into the body. Go into the aches
and pains. Breathe where it is shallow and go deeper, getting deeper. Feel the
numbness, feel the pain. Feel where it is tingly in the tips of the fingers and
toes. Go deeper. Feel the healing powers at work. Feel the energy flow. Feel
the Earth energy rising through into the body. It is a river of energy flowing up
into the body and healing -all along as it goes. Feel it. Breathe it in. This is
your healing. This is your life source.

Breathe again. And keep breathing. With each new breath feel the pain, feel
the aches and feel the healing. Feel the Life-force breathing in, gaining ground.
Growing. The Life-force is enlivening. The seeds of health are growing. Healing
is taking place, right now.

Go to the area of discomfort. Go to where the stomach is churning. It is
releasing fear. These are the signs of health, of healing, releasing old fear.
Bravo. Continue the good work. This is how it goes. Again and again breathe
in, go to the places of healing. Go to the pain, go to the discomfort, and go to
the healing powers. Stay with and in the body. The body is your healer. The
energy will flow if you stay with it. Follow the energy, give yourself to the good
energy. See light and healing.

Blessed be.

            Evy says, "The disease and the unfinished business seem to be drawing
each other out, if that is possible. It draws out my children's resentments and it
draws out my resentments as well. It is like another presence in the room. And
no one is protected from it."

            Stephen Levine writes about his talk with Evy: "We spoke of the contagion
of fear. How if one holds to it instead of investigating it, it can solidify in the mind
and be transmitted to all those about. How her children, in finding they can't
protect her body from dying anymore than they can protect their own, may feel
considerable frustration from this lack of control and how it can cause emotional
upheavals and great consternation, particularly on the part of those who care for
her most. But confusion too is just not knowing what to do when there is stress.
They are stressed and their reaction to stress isn't a particularly useful one. As
most people’s aren't. They want to blame someone for your being sick and they
can't find anyone to blame. So they just get stuck in the place of blame and it all
comes spitting out."

"Say what ever there is to say now while you have the energy and ability
to say it. But in a sense, that doesn't really finish business. What finishes
business is when you let go of your holding to the old accounts, the end of
relationships as 'business', and just send love. I know it is very difficult now, but
to what ever degree you want them to accept you, that is the degree to which you
just won't allow yourself to be who you are, how you are. And now, as in no
other time in your life, it is a time to just be there for yourself. Because under that
resentment is frustration and under that frustration is more love that you can
imagine. Don't try to bargain with their fears and resentments. Notice the
hardness and merciless of the mind and send it forgiveness. Though the body
seems recalcitrant and stiff and inoperable, you may find access to a place within
your mind, within your heart, that allows the deepest sort of completion to come
about, the deepest healing imaginable, allowing your heart to come into its
fullness as your body goes whichever way it will."

            (After Evy’s death,) "Evy learned as much a she was willing under the
circumstances and perhaps she made considerable progress and would continue
even after death, in whatever environment she found herself. As she herself
said, 'My race is run.' Her fear of pain, her self-doubt, her agitation, her moments
of peace, her desire to be free, are part of us all. There can be no judgment.
Only a deeper recognition of how we hold to life and the sense that there is no
better time to prepare then in this moment."

It was an international morning. Uche from Nigeria, who is my overnight home
health aide and sleeps through the night on the couch when I don't have to wake
up every two or three hours. Last night was a good night --I slept from 12 to 6,
straight through. And Vita, from Haiti, my home health aide substitute for
Cordelia (who is also from Nigeria) in the morning to help me bathe and get
dressed and with breakfast. Vita speaks beautiful French as well as Creole. We 
spent the morning speaking French together, she helping me to improve my
French vocabulary and the use of verb tenses, as I asked question after
question. For some reason, today I had an insatiable appetite for speaking
French. With Ginny, the four of us had an Italian Christmas breakfast. Uche
could ask a few questions and say a few words and French, not really knowing
what he was saying. Ginny, thinking she could say anything she wanted to in
French and laughing the whole time at Vita and me. And Vita and I continued to
just speak French. We all had tea, except for Ginny, she had her espresso--
which Uche tasted and thought it was the most bitter thing he'd ever tried and
could not believe that somebody would drink that voluntarily. It was a good thing
we had the Italian bread and tea to get the taste out of his mouth.

After our international crew left, Ginny and I sat down to a quieter meal together
alone. We both realized it was the first time we've had breakfast together in
months. Truly I cannot remember the last time. I guess it must have been
September when we were on vacation, to celebrate our wedding anniversary.

Christmas morning, breakfast together. This is healing. A bit of quiet, a few
laughs, many tears as we both think silently it could be our last together. There
is so much for us to treasure together, while we are still together in such form. It
is hardly possible; so much love, so much to share -and yet so little time. If we
could just get beyond time and space to the real reality --love.

Now the phone calls began, my relatives and friends, Ginny's sister, father and
brother and his family. I go to the room Ginny's in to close the door, so she can
hear better on the phone with my music playing loudly. I try to close the door but
my power chair gets in the way and I cannot close the door I try three or four
times, finally Ginny gets up and helps me and I cry because I cannot close the
door.

Ginny found my Christmas albums which had been hiding up until today. I put
one of my favorites of Baroque Christmas music on and immediately tears came
to my eyes as I realize music is such a deer part of my personal tradition at
Christmas and the music touches my soul. Music reaches me in places where
nothing else does or can. And so I listen to my music and go to those places, or
try to -playing the same music that I heard as a child and that I’ve listened to
just about every year since…

Last night at Chef Chang's for our traditional Christmas Eve Chinese feast of
Peking Duck, I asked Ginny to practice feeding me for the time that would come
soon when she would have to, because I could no longer lift my left arm and
hand. I've been using my left hand for the last six months or so, because my
right hand cannot sense things and I drop things so easily. I cannot get a grip of
things with my right hand . But now I must be use both hands to wobble up from
plate to mouth. It works pretty well but I feel awkward and self-conscious.

And I say to Ginny, "Let's look into each other's eyes." And as we do this, both
sets of eyes, tear up and I behold a sea of love and compassion. And after a few
moments of silence I speak again and say, "This is what I need now and for
when I am dying. I don't want to be alone. I want you and I want your love and I
want to take it with me."

And this heals me. And then we go back to our discussion about my therapist,
and to eating our duck.

Ginny and I went to a service at a church that I have not been to before. A friend
invited us. It was a children’s service, with children’s choirs and stories. It was a
beautiful service. Full of music that I love, hearing the carols from children’s
voices is always very special. This choir had rehearsed well and sounded very
good. I was able to sit right up front because of being in a wheelchair. I did not
have to wait in line as many, many people came in. It was packed of course for
Christmas Eve. My friends had reserved us seats –they had come earlier.

There was a moment in the singing that touched my heart so deeply and tenderly
that I cried.

And I tried to stay inside once the tears came. I took it as a sign from God –well
more correctly it was a sign from inside my being that I was listening to God,
open at that moment to my feelings and to a communion with God. I had Ginny
at my side and reached out my hand to her –for the feelings extended to her as
well as to me. I felt loss and I knew her loss, I felt sad and I knew her sadness, I
felt love and I knew her love. It was tenderness that went low and high.

Tenderness. I was in the state of tenderness. I was asking for forgiveness from
God and I was forgiving myself. I was bowing down before the alter. I was
feeling so much love, and so much sadness.

Then came the ritual of communion. I did not grow up with this experience. But
in recent years I have practiced it. I remembered the very first time I received
communion in another church with a very striking, intelligent and spiritually
beautiful woman priest -it was very powerful. It was as if I had been there before
and was very comfortable with the ritual. I thought of her, for she had just
recently moved onto the spirit world –a shock to all in the congregation. And now
I thought of her and missed her profoundly. I could see her face so clearly, her
gaze solid and full of light, offering each person the same spirited food of life and
love. And now this was the first time I was receiving communion in a wheelchair.
I had walked up for communion on crutches and after that, using a walker. And I
remember well the offerings in the past to people who could not easily get up to
the front. I remembered that there would be a special time after the service, or a
priest might come afterward to offer communion to those who could not walk up
the aisle without help. I was in a sort of dream-state remembering all these past
experiences and seeing those vivid images. And I sat there looking at how
beautiful the priests were, how respectful and devoted they were as they set up
the alter. The thought, "What should I do?" entered my head for some brief
seconds as I watched a large and beautiful black woman in a long purple and
white robe who was the officiating priest of this service. She looked at me and
she walked directly to me. She had the bread of Christ in her hands and offered
it to me first. And right behind her another priest offered me the wine. They
came to me first. It was just like in the Bible where Christ helps those who need
healing first, those who are ready. And I was ready. And I was so moved,
surprised and open. I realized I was full of hope, not just sadness but full with
hope and faith –and it was all held in love. I took in more love than I could
remember feeling for a long time. It was an ancient and reminiscent feeling, a
dim familiar memory. It was simple. It was beautiful and it was an act of love
that went right to me, right into me.

I was filled with such love and gratitude and I could not stop the tears.

I was able to stay in a state of grace for quite awhile after that.

And life must go on. And I must find ways to return to the state of grace. To
return to that openness. To remember that the sadness is not just sadness, but it
is held by love. In the sadness and pain and suffering and anger –it is all a way
to God, to the inner Self, if we can only listen and see from within and follow the
right path. And I do believe that that path is there for us all -though the form it
takes may be very different and unique for each person.