I dreamed of my father once. He looked younger and thinner, happy and light. I ran up to him, his arms open. His laughter was real. I hugged him for the first time since I was a small child. The moment did not last long. He seemed so happy, unlike in life. If he had been this happy while alive, how different he would have been as a father. The Buddhists believe that we choose our parents before we are born so we can learn the karmic lessons we need to know to grow. How can this explain why some children are abused by their own parents? Abuse should never be condoned, but so many get lost in the cracks, lost in time. What about their souls, not to mention bodies and minds? The Harts lose a daughter because they wanted to hide, to bury, their own abilities to fit into a conventional world. But the fear keeps sneaking up on them, until they decide to embrace who they are so they can get some control over their lives. Self-acceptance is a spiritual gift and, no matter how many lives we experience, we're just taking another step in understanding ourselves. At the same time, we want a deeper experience than our jobs, bills, kids, or eating at McDonald's or Subway. Bitching about the economy or health insurance. What else is there? The children are growing up and the parents, like my mom, are in their sixties. Who am I without none of the above? Are other things, besides grief, causing my search for answers? Do I just want a spiritual pillow to lay my head on, so I can dream of my father again, or has he moved on to another life, ready for us to be reunited on a different stage, a different play by the same playwright, creating His dramas and comedies as we wait in the wings? :)
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