It was almost 3 weeks ago that my ex boyfriend wrote me. For the first time in a very long time, or so it seemed, I was not enraged at his attempt to cross my boundary. Now, I would be lying if I said that there is no anger, because there is. But it has certainly lessened in it's degree. Instead of ranting around my apartment, yelling " Who the fuck does he think he is! Motherfu...better STEP OFF!", I was calm. And I wrote for the first time in 3 months, a reply.
I let in him know he was no longer welcome in my life. I reminded him how that came to be, what his actions ought to be now where I am concerned, and what I wanted for myself. All without using the f-word a single time. That is progress.
He is a sad, lost, lonely little boy. My heart has compassion for him, because I often feel he will not find his way in this lifetime. Or maybe he will. Inshallah...
The last word I wrote in my final reply, was the word that appeared to me.
Namaste.
This is not a word I hear often, except for when I randomly do yoga. I felt compelled that night, that moment to end my letter with that word. I heard the door the door closing on that part of my life, as I typed it and clicked "send". Later, I looked the word up and smiled as I read the definition. Yes. That is it perfectly.
It can mean hello.
It can mean goodbye
"The gesture used when bowing in Namaste or gassho is the bringing of both hands together, palms touching, in front of the person—usually at the chest, or a higher level such as below the chin, below the nose, or above the head.
This gesture is a mudra, a well-recognized symbolic hand position in eastern religions. One hand represents the higher, spiritual nature, while the other represents the worldly self. By combining the two, the person making the gesture is attempting to rise above their differences with others, and connect themself to the person they bow to. The bow is symbolic of love and respect."
The following Monday evening, I found myself thinking again of this word, while en-route to my favorite Auntie's home. I was just pondering the word and it's many meanings and the profoundness of it's application. Shortly after I arrived at Kyra's, we were delving right into our organizing project when suddenly she said " Oh! Oh! I have some things for you!" She held out some bumper stickers and the one that immediately caught my attention was the purple sticker with the white text that read " Namaste."
The next day, I was further compelled by this word to put the sticker on my car. On that following Thursday morning, while going back to work( after my communication vacation), I got on the freeway and found myself in between a black porsche and a red porsche. I was also wearing a T-shirt that Kelly had brought me from Alaska with Simshan Indian art on it, featuring a salmon and an eagle, in red and black. My mom had told me, since she is knowledgeable about our Cherokee heritage, that the salmon symbolizes spirit, and the eagle knowledge. I was literally, I felt at that moment, sandwiched between spirit and knowledge in the form of porsches, driving along the road. The road of life.
A few days later, again on the way to work, I was cut off by one driver, another couldn't make up their mind about which lane they wanted to drive in , another was riding my ass as I brake checked her. All the while, I am cussing up a storm, remembering that I sit behind Namaste. I thought, "Can you say, Namaste MotherFucker!" Was I being a hypocrite? Or was it one of those paradoxes that could hold true? Could you wish someone well with the highest of intentions and be angry and annoyed with them all at once? I am still meditating on that.
Netflix brought me a movie called " The Namesake". It is directed by one of my favorite directors, Mira Nair. It's a beautiful story, and if you aren't interested in Indian culture, or have a connection to the death of your father, you may not find it as touching as I did. Or perhaps you will.
For me - it was incredibly healing. I cried the tears of grief remembered. February 10 will mark the 4th anniversary of my own father's passing. What made it even more incredible was the timing of this movie, me not knowing what it was about, and yes, I even heard the word namaste said in the background of the film.
Time does heal the hurt that loss inflicts. The loss of fathers, boyfriends once loved, and the parts of ourselves we gave away. Everywhere I go, everyday, and every moment, I am bowing in honor of those who cross my path. Pay no attention to the curse words murmured under my breath. Focus on the word.
Namaste.
