The Rise of the Phoenix

The last few years have been a sterile period for my creative life – something akin to an Alaskan winter from which I am only slowly beginning to emerge. The story behind this is a long and complex one but the reason for my recent silence is that in March of this year, my mother finally lost her battle with cancer.

When she was first diagnosed, we were told in no uncertain terms that there was no cure for her particular variant of this disease but that the symptoms could be ‘managed’ for an ‘indeterminate’ period. Loosely translated, this meant that she would be given intensive chemotherapy but that how long she lived would depend on the progression of the cancer.  As a result of this devastating diagnosis, from April 2012 until March 2015, I experienced the strange and unsettling sensation of falling off a cliff backwards in slow motion; certain that I was going to hit the ground eventually, without being sure when. Throughout this time, I battled to prepare myself psychologically for her eventual departure from this world and our lives.  Perhaps not surprisingly, I also found myself unable to write with any consistency.

Now that the ice has begun to thaw around my battered heart, I hope that the words and stories that I want to share may start to flow freely again. Perhaps the time has come to cast aside the hard shell of my grief and rediscover those things that bring a smile to my lips and a spring to my step.

Over the last three years, acute instability and uncertainty have been the dominant themes. During this period, I have been fascinated by the striking synchronicity between events in my personal life and the powerful interplay between the planet of Saturn and my birth sign of Scorpio. I have always believed that interplanetary movements affect us mortals here on earth, so the apparent link between what has been going on for me personally and what has been occurring out there in the solar system comes as no surprise to me.

As it turns out, between October 2012 and September this year, Saturn has entered, exited and then re-entered the sign of Scorpio; bringing with it many tough lessons – particularly for those of us born under this sign. Saturn isn’t a warm, fuzzy planet at the best of times and it assumes a particularly cold countenance in Scorpio. Saturn’s job is to accelerate the processes of maturity and responsibility by forcing us to examine those aspects of ourselves that we would prefer to ignore. Under its influence we are given the opportunity to get our house in order, or continue to suffer the consequences! These things are forced on us, as most of us would naturally avoid them if we could.

Saturn’s most recent return to Scorpio is the last time this planet will pass through my birth sign for the next 29 years. From what I have read, this will offer Scorpios everywhere another opportunity to apply the wisdom acquired from the harsh lessons of the past few years: a chance to review and correct mistakes and wind up any unfinished business from the original transit. For me personally, Saturn’s last dance with Scorpio has resulted in the unrelenting disintegration of almost every aspect of my life - including work, money, family and marriage. During this period, the tectonic plates of my personal landscape have shifted dramatically. The end result is that all that seemed stable and secure has been dismantled and reconfigured.

In my quest to negotiate this turbulent period to the best of my ability, I have devoured all manner of articles from a wide range of sources. One such publication was an interview in Twine Magazine, in which Twine’s resident astrology writer discusses Saturn’s transit through Scorpio with professional astrologer, Dr Debra Silverman. What I liked most about Dr Silverman‘s observations is that they offer a fresh and profound perspective, both on the nature of Saturn and that of Scorpio. In fact, her words on this subject – quote to follow – have given me some useful insights and a renewed sense of empowerment:

“Saturn doesn’t have to be negative at all. He is the high-school principal that catches you in the hallway and asks you if you’ve done your homework. If you go against Saturn and try to cut corners and take shortcuts, Saturn will call you into his office. But if you do your homework, he will reward you with achievement and success. Those who seek excellence simply have to become friends with Saturn. It doesn’t mean you have to hate what you are working towards. It means you take what you find joy in doing and practice it regularly in order to find mastery over it. Saturn is Purpose. If you are aligned with your purpose and practice it regularly, Saturn says, “You’re with me.”

In this interview, Dr Silverman also challenges some of the commonly held misconceptions about the misunderstood and much maligned sign of Scorpio. In her words, Scorpio is “the sign that takes the darkness and brings it to the light.” I love this description as it reaffirms my sense that Scorpios possess something akin to x-ray vision. This enables us to see beneath the surface of things to expose the truth – no matter how dark or inconvenient it may be. In fact, this innate ability to uncover the shadow-self in both ourselves and others is no doubt why some people feel uncomfortable in our presence!

Towards the end of the interview, she goes on to explain that there are, in fact, three kinds of Scorpios– depending on how spiritually evolved the person in question may be. These are as follows:

·         The Snake/Scorpion: This is the Scorpio who dwells only in the darkness.

·         The Eagle (or “Blonde Scorpios”): Scorpios that dwell exclusively in the light. Often “goodie-goodies” because they fear and reject their own darkness without acknowledging it.

·         The Phoenix: This Scorpio is the most powerful sign in the Zodiac. Phoenixes have no fear of the darkness yet they are comfortable in the light. Where there is no fear, there is power.

What immediately struck me about this was that when I decided to name my blog, I actually had no idea that the phoenix is a symbol of my birth sign! I do love this kind of ‘coincidence’, which I think of as just another form of synchronicity. Either way, the fact is that for as long as I can remember, I have felt drawn to the striking images of this mythical creature rising from the flames of destruction to be born anew. By virtue of its innate capacity to transmute material reality, the phoenix is a powerful alchemist and an enduring symbol of hope and resilience.

During some of the most challenging periods of my life, the symbolic power of the phoenix has served as a reminder of my own strength and resilience. It has taught me that whatever life may throw my way, I too have the ability to raise myself up from the flames of adversity. This is never a comfortable process and I have rarely come through it unscathed but, despite the inevitable battle scars, I have always emerged stronger and wiser from the ashes of my former self. And for that I can only be grateful. 

The transformative value of suffering…

Bad things happen to us all from time to time but I have always believed that what defines our value as human beings is the way we respond to such challenges. And sometimes out of the greatest suffering, the most amazing transformations can be born.

As those of you who regularly read my blog will know, at the beginning of this year I found myself facing a crisis in my personal life. I cannot say that I am grateful for this experience because the pain I felt was so intense that for a while I struggled to eat, sleep and do even the most basic everyday things. On the other hand, it did serve a useful purpose: something akin to a long overdue and much-needed wake-up call! With the benefit of hindsight, I now appreciate that perhaps only something of this magnitude could have made me see that I had inadvertently taken a detour down a blind alley.  For the truth is that I had been sleepwalking through life for many months - barely conscious of myself or my interactions with others - along a route that was taking me further and further in the wrong direction. I would no doubt have continued in this way had the invisible hand of destiny not intervened  - forcefully slapping me awake and breaking me open!

I have always been a person who is prone to extremes. Unfortunately, this means that I am very sensitive to both the positive and negative forces in life - with an innate tendency to lean towards a ‘glass half empty’ type of thinking. So, unless I constantly challenge myself to stay conscious,  when difficulties arise I can easily find myself sucked under by their negative pull. This is effectively what had been happening to me over a prolonged period and although I was vaguely aware of it, I hadn’t fully appreciated just how far down the road to hell I had travelled until the Universe decided to intervene by giving me a huge kick in the rear! At the time, I wondered what an earth was happening and how life could seemingly be so consistently cruel to me. But, I have come to see that although this has been an excruciatingly painful experience, it has actually been necessary to get me back on the right track.

I do not often refer to Buddhism in my posts but it is of particular relevance here, because the way I have dealt with my personal challenges is firmly rooted in the philosophy of my spiritual practice. Nichiren Buddhism teaches that life’s problems are necessary because, without them, we would be unable to develop ourselves as human beings and change our negative karma.  This is quite a radical concept and one that embodies a profoundly hopeful way of looking at life’s adversities. Instead of seeing pain and suffering as just pain and suffering, this school of Buddhism teaches us to see any kind of adversity we may face as an opportunity. In fact the Lotus flower – which represents the guiding philosophy of this form of Buddhism - can only grow in murky waters. This perfectly symbolises the concept that in order to grow and change, we actually need to experience adversity. And, at times, life can definitely throw plenty of mud our way!

With this in mind, I have dedicated myself body and soul to using my suffering to make some much long overdue changes in my life. This has resulted in a radical re-evaluation of who I want to be and how I want to show up in the world. Almost every aspect of my life has been questioned in this process – including how and where I live, what I do for a living and the way I relate to others. In fact, in this last area I am already beginning to see positive changes in the way I interact with some of my closest family members – particularly my brother.

As you know, the title of my blog is Forever Phoenix and I have always felt a deep connection to this mythical creature and all that it symbolises. At various stages in my life, I have had to rebuild my world and start over but I have never learnt so much about myself in the process as I have in the last few weeks. Of one thing I am certain – this suffering has allowed me to become softer, more self-aware, and more compassionate to myself and others; but, above all, it has enabled me to become much clearer about how I want to live my life. So, despite a deep sense of sadness and regret, I actually feel more alive and more awake to life’s possibilities than I ever have.

Suddenly it feels like I am poised at the edge of something very new and exciting. And, like a diver, I am flexing my muscles and taking a deep breath – ready to plunge wholeheartedly into the beautiful unknown.

Copyright © Claire-Louise Osorio, 2014

New beginnings and difficult endings...

The beginning of any New Year is usually a time of hope and optimism. It is also a time of reflection as we look back on the year just passed and think about our goals and resolutions for the year to come. But the transition from one calendar year to another rarely signifies a sudden change in personal fortune – whether positive or negative. It takes more than a change in date to make that happen, and many of us will have abandoned our plans for self-improvement before the month of January is even over. Yet still, we hold onto the hope that with good intentions and a bit of will power, the New Year will bring us what we truly desire.

On a personal level, I was very glad to say goodbye to 2013. It had been a year beset with difficulties at work and in my personal life. So like many others, I held onto the hope that 2014 would see an improvement in these areas and that perhaps grace and good fortune would be on my side. Unfortunately, just 7 days into the New Year, I have found myself still facing the same challenges as last year, only now I am facing them alone.  Just 3 days into 2014, my husband and I separated after 4 years together. The shock and pain of this is still so fresh that I barely know what to do with myself, but I am doing the one thing I can do right now – which is to write.

 I can’t say that this break up was totally unexpected, but just last month my husband and I had spent some meaningful and much-needed time together, so I had dared to hope that we had turned a corner. I had hoped that we could reconcile our differences and begin to move forwards in the same direction, sadly I was wrong. After a stupid and seemingly inconsequential argument, he announced that he had been unhappy with me for months and that he no longer loved me. I was stunned and devastated. When someone tells you they are unhappy in their relationship with you, there is at least some chance or hope of talking it through and finding a resolution. But, if that person tells you they no longer love you, there is nowhere to go from there.

What saddens me most is that although we had been feeling more and more disconnected for several months, instead of talking about it or taking action, we just let it go.  To be fair, during this time my husband tried to bridge the ever widening gap between us by offering me his support, but I just felt so exhausted and empty inside that I could not respond. I had become so caught up in my own problems that I didn’t fully realise that I was pushing him further and further away.

Someone once told me that when we are facing great trauma or stress in our lives, we revert to our default patterns – the ones we learnt in early childhood. Unfortunately my default pattern seems to be that when I am suffering, I cut myself off from the most important people in my life. I become self-involved, introverted, and stubbornly self-sufficient. From an early age, I have learnt to shield myself from disappointment and pain by not relying on anyone but we all need help and support, especially during tough times. Unfortunately, in the course of several bad relationships, including the one I had with my father, I also learnt that the only way to avoid being hurt by a man is to barricade your heart from him. Because of this, I refused to allow my husband to support me when I needed him most - inadvertently sending a signal that his help was not needed - when actually nothing could have been further from the truth!

It is not my intention to blame or berate myself for what has happened because there had been problems in my marriage for a long time and it takes two to break a relationship. But, I have to recognise the part I played, if only to make sure this never happens again. I do not want to live a life devoid of shared intimacy, unable to either give or receive love, so the time has come from me to take what lessons I can from this painful experience and make some long overdue changes to the way I live my life.

So, I intend to turn my focus inward and start doing the work. I don’t know how I am going to get there or how long it will take, but I must have faith that I am the master of my destiny and that I don’t have to let the past determine my future.  The only way the pain of this situation can have any purpose or meaning for me is if I can use it to transform myself – like the phoenix rising from the ashes.  It is not coincidental that I use this metaphor, Forever Phoenix, is after all the title of this blog. The reason I chose it is because throughout my life I have faced a series of major setbacks and losses and, each time, I have had to start over and rebuild my world from the inside out. I have no doubt that I will do this again, despite the heartbreak that currently engulfs me.

I don’t know how long it will take me to pick myself up and start over but I don’t think it is just a matter of time. They say time heals all wounds but in my experience, it takes a lot more than that. If we don’t really learn from what has gone wrong in our lives, we just carry old scars forward and carry on making the same errors time and time again. To change our destiny – our karma – we have to actively participate in the process, arming ourselves with courage to transform those things in ourselves that keep causing us to suffer. This is my goal, not just for this New Year, but for the rest of my life. Meanwhile, I pray that I may emerge from this experience, stronger, wiser, and happier.

Thanks for reading and wishing you all that I wish for myself - peace of mind, gratitude and the resilience to cope with adversity without losing hope - not just in this New Year but Forever After.

Copyright © Claire-Louise Osorio, 2014

If I won the lottery….

Words are my true love and putting them together into a well-crafted ensemble is my favourite pastime. Unfortunately, herein lies the rub; because, in recent months, I have had no time to pass in this creative endeavour. This saddens me… in fact it down right depresses me because I get such joy from writing. However, there is writing and then there is WRITING …

To clarify, I admit that, strictly speaking, I cannot claim that I have had no time to write. In actual fact, I have sat before my computer tirelessly weaving sentences together for many weeks now. However, whilst the aim of these daily endeavours is undoubtedly a worthy one, this form of self-expression definitely falls into the category of writing - as opposed to WRITING. The reason is simple: although the creation of a compelling appeal allows me to craft my words in service of a worthy cause, it rarely inspires my Creative Muse to put in an appearance. In fact, this lady has been uncharacteristically silent for some time now and I suspect that she will remain so, unless given an unexpected opportunity to materialise. For the reality is that each minute of my day is currently accounted for, from the time I awake to the moment my head hits the pillow.

I often hear people talk of what they would do if they won the lottery. For me it is quite simple: I would quit my job, find myself a quiet spot on a Tuscan hill, and WRITE - all day, every day - from dawn ‘til dusk.  This is my dearest and most cherished dream.

Looking back with an eye to the future

As 2012 drew to a close, I inevitably found myself reflecting on some of the highs and lows of that extraordinary year. I refer to it as extraordinary because during the last 12 months, some truly life altering events have occurred in my little corner of the universe.

In Chinese culture, 2012 was the year of the Dragon - the Water Dragon, to be specific. The dragon is widely regarded as the most auspicious of all the animal signs; therefore, in Chinese astrology, dragon years signify good fortune. Dragon years are also associated with growth and change. According to popular mythology, the dragon’s head and tail cannot be seen at the same time - symbolising its unpredictable and untouchable nature. From this, we might infer that believers in Chinese astrology would have expected 2012 to be a year of transformations and unexpected events.

Broadening our cultural reference point, the ancient Mayans also predicted that 2012 would be a year of deep and far-reaching transformations.  Unfortunately, the wisdom of the ancient Mayans was erroneously interpreted by many as a sort of ‘Nostradamian’ prophecy of impending apocalypse. However, according to Mayan scholars, what the Mayans foretold was that significant transformations would occur in 2012, not that life on earth would cease to exist. This is because, according to the Mesoamerican Long Count calendar, 21 December 2012 marks the end-date of a 5,125-year-long cycle. Consequently, far from signifying the end of the world, this date referred to a period of change and renewal – the start of a new era.

On a personal level, there is no doubt that for me and my family, 2012 was a year of cataclysmic shifts. In early January, I suddenly found myself facing the threat of redundancy– a terrifying prospect for anyone who has no other income to fall back on and a child to support whose father makes no financial contribution. Not only that, I had relocated from London to take my current job and, after less than two years, it seemed like I would have to begin the arduous search for work all over again.  It had taken me a long time to adjust to living in the South West and to settle my son into a new school so this idea did not fill me with joy - particularly as it would most likely involve moving away from the area.

Then in May, my mother was diagnosed with cancer. This was a huge shock to me and my family, particularly as this formidable lady has always seemed so physically strong and robust – so much so that in 25 years she never once took a day’s sick leave from work. However, on reflection, I realise this may have been due to her stubborn British stoicism, rather than because she was blessed with exceptionally good health.

I have never had an easy relationship with my mother, but suddenly finding myself forced to confront the prospect of her imminent death was devastating. We all know that our parents will not live forever and, having worked for a bereavement charity, I thought I would be better prepared than most to deal with this reality; yet, as I discovered, nothing prepares you for the loss of someone you love.  

However, there is no doubt that I would have coped better with the shattering reality of my mother’s life-threatening illness were it not for the fact that I was also facing huge pressures and uncertainty at work. As if things were not tough enough already by this stage, I had also taken on the role of primary carer for my father, who has early stage dementia. During this period, it felt like a huge fist had appeared from nowhere and shattered my whole world, with one deadly blow after another. For, no sooner had I started to deal with one difficulty when something else presented itself. I was being dragged out of my depth by a hostile sea and it required all my energy just to stay afloat.

Having read the above, you will probably not be surprised to hear that these events had a detrimental effect on my personal life because, like most people in times of crisis, I reverted to my default survival mechanisms. Such automatic and instinctive responses may be designed to protect us but, because they are fear-based, they never serve us well. In my case, I have allowed some of life’s more bitter experiences to convince me that I cannot rely on anyone other than myself. So, when faced with a serious difficulty, I tend to close myself off from those closest to me. As a consequence, over the years I have gradually built up a formidable armour of self-reliance. Furthermore, having battled through life’s difficulties alone for the greater part of four decades, it seems that I have become an expert in going solo – not because I want to, but because I am unwilling to risk being let down by someone I love. It seems I have gone from being naively trusting in my misguided youth, to intensely guarded and risk-averse in my middle years. The unfortunate result of all this is that, rather than reaching out for help during the dramas of 2012, I drew up my emotional drawbridge and disappeared behind a self-constructed fortress. 

We have all heard the expression ‘no gain without pain’ and, from this viewpoint, there is no doubt that 2012 taught me some very valuable life lessons. Knowledge is power – or so they say - so I would like to think that in 2013 I will find a way of using my hard-earned self-awareness to make some changes to my life. The beginning of any new year offers an opportunity to reflect on the year that has just passed and although I don’t have faith in so-called New Year’s Resolutions, I do believe that now is as good a time as any to make determinations for the year ahead.

Therefore, the time has come to share with you my dearest hope for the immediate future – a form of prayer or vow, if you like. In broad terms, it goes something like this: no matter what challenges I may face in 2013, I will respond to them differently from last year. Instead of going it alone, I will risk being open and learn to gratefully accept support whenever it is offered to me; I will constantly strive to discard my stubbornness and fear; finally, I will learn to share my journey through this life with all its joys and sorrow – my hopes, dreams and fears – with those who truly love me. Above all, I will no longer allow the bitterness of the past to colour my experience of the present.  

Copyright © Claire-Louise Osorio, 2013

The importance of grandmothers….

I have often observed that women play a primary role in keeping the family together and it is the matriarchal figure of the grandmother who frequently takes the lead in this most noble of endeavours. 

These days, with increasing economic pressures adding to the strain on young families and escalating divorce rates, grandmothers often play a pivotal role in their grandchildren’s lives. As a society, we are indebted to these strong, principled women, whose deep-rooted sense of the importance of family is at the heart of their worldview. These are women who have already raised their own children and finally have the freedom, perhaps for the first time in their lives, to do as they please; but, rather than spend their remaining years pursuing hobbies or taking cruises - they find the greatest satisfaction in spending time with their grandchildren. 

My own grandmother greatly enriched my childhood and twenty-three years later, I still feel her influence.  To a child, the summer holidays can often seem interminably long and monotonous, but my grandmother’s vibrant imagination and talent for story telling would transport me to a magical world, where anything seemed possible. I like to think that my love of writing has been her legacy to me.

However, it is my own mother, who has given me the greatest example of all of the importance of grandmothers. I was just twenty years old when my first child was born and ill equipped to cope with the demands of caring for a newborn baby and completing a university degree; thanks to my mother, I was able to manage both. She was present from the moment my daughter came into the world and has been a guiding force in her life ever since; because of this, grandmother and granddaughter share an unshakeable bond.

Such is their complicity that my daughter quite often tells her grandmother about the important events in her life before she tells me. At times, this has caused me to feel sidelined and overlooked, but I recognise that there are certain things that are easier to confide to a grandmother than to a mother. Furthermore, grandmothers are usually better listeners and have the wisdom to know how to advise without appearing to interfere. They are also able to maintain a degree of emotional detachment from their grandchildren and, unlike mothers, do not hold themselves responsible for their every mistake!

I used to tell my grandmother things that I would never dream of telling my mother. It was wonderful to be able to confide in someone who loved me unconditionally but who rarely passed judgment. For example, I would frequently share my dreams of running away from home with her - this was something I had been plotting since the tender age of five! Rather than reacting with alarm or criticism, my grandmother limited herself to calmly enumerating the obvious impracticalities of my plan. She advised me that I would need considerable funds to live on my own and that I would have to save my pocket money for many months. She also gently reminded me that although my parents were undoubtedly hard to live with, they did provide basic things for me, like food and shelter (without which a young girl could not survive for very long!). At the time, I did not feel patronised or ridiculed for my childish dreams of escape – on the contrary, my grandmother always lent a sympathetic ear to my problems; however, she never failed in her duty to remind me that, despite my parents many imperfections, their love for me was unquestionable.  She also never failed to reassure me that – if things got tough – I could always seek refuge at ‘grandma’s house’.

I have often thought that my children’s lives would be very different without the presence of their grandmother. She has been their rock in an uncertain world and they rest safe in the knowledge that they can always count on her. The bond they share with her is particularly precious because neither one of them has known their paternal grandparents. The reason for this is sadly commonplace: when relationships break down, children not only lose contact with the absent parent; they also very often lose their connection with their extended family on that side.

For my daughter, the reality of this statement is sadly poignant. She has a wide network of relatives on her father’s side that she has never met – including her paternal grandparents. In fact, she was planning to travel to Colombia next year to visit them but just last weekend, her sister wrote to say that their grandmother had died. In view of the fact that she had never even spoken to her father’s mother, the depth of her grief took my daughter by surprise. However, it seems to me that the reason she feels this loss so deeply is because she knows how precious and irreplaceable a grandmother can be. She is mourning the relationship she might have had with her Colombia grandmother, if only she been given the chance to meet her.

When my mother was diagnosed with cancer earlier this year, my children were deeply affected. Their grandmother has been at the heart of their world for as long as they can remember and neither of them can imagine life without her. One day, shortly after she became ill, I took delivery of a beautiful bouquet of lilies. On the handwritten card accompanying them were the words: ‘To abuela’. My children have always called their grandmother abuela (the Spanish word for grandmother) but the flowers were not from them – in fact, they were sent by a close friend of my daughter’s. My mother has become a sort of ‘honorary’ grandmother to this young girl and her words were a touching testimony to that fact. This caused me to reflect that she has assumed a grandmotherly role with several of my children’s friends, whom she has gradually adopted over time.  Consequently, they do not think of her as someone else’s grandmother - to them she is just abuela - and for this reason, their attachment to her runs deep.

So, those of us who have been lucky enough to know our grandmothers should give thanks: for we have been blessed.

It is as grandmothers that our mothers come into the fullness of their grace.
-- Christopher Morley

If nothing is going well, call your grandmother.
-- Italian Proverb


Copyright © Claire-Louise Osorio, 2012

The Power of Prayer

It has been just over two months since I lasted posted on here but in that short time my whole world has been turned upside down. I look outside the window, noting that Spring has made a tardy appearance and that the foliage on the trees outside my office have burst forth in a verdant display of abundance. Yet, I can't help feeling a touch of indignation that the world continues to go about its business and the sun still shines. This may sound like an odd statement but, as I have recently discovered, when there is a shift of cataclysmic proportions in your own private corner of the universe, you are left with the sensation that this should somehow be reflected in the wider world and a feeling of bafflement and annoyance that it is not. There has been a seismic shift in my world and nothing will ever be the same again, but the earth carries on circling round the sun and the seasons continue their unaltered, centuries-old course.

Someone once wrote that grief is the price we pay for love and this is a lesson I have learnt well over the past four decades of my life but none of the losses I have experienced to date compare with what awaits me. I realise now that I have been lucky because although I have had my share of heartache, I have never had to face losing someone who is at the heart of my world. There are certain people in our lives who are irreplaceable but whose presence we tend to take for granted; ironically, we sometimes only fully appreciate how valuable they are when faced with their imminent loss. A mother is one such person.

In my particular case, my mother is more than a mother: she is also my best friend, the person who knows me better than anyone and the only person who will ever love me unconditionally, no matter what. I have not always had an easy relationship with this strong-willed lady– two feisty and determined women such as us are bound to clash at times – but, in recent years, we have forged a solid bond founded on mutual admiration and appreciation and a strong sense of complicity. Over time, my mother and I have learnt to look after and look out for one another and this has made both our lives easier and more pleasurable. We have supported each other through some rough times but we have also shared some wonderful times, feasting on each other’s triumphs as though they were our own. In view of all this, I quite simply cannot begin to imagine my life without her.

On this subject, it seems to me that there must be an inbuilt feature in the hardwiring of the human brain that prevents us from dwelling too much on the fact that life must eventually come to an end and that things cannot continue indefinitely as we have always known them. This feature undoubtedly serves a useful purpose – particularly as it prevents us from becoming excessively melancholy, allowing us to go about the routine business of our lives without experiencing too much existential angst. However, despite the undoubted usefulness of this form of self-protective denial, it definitely has a downside: namely that when we are suddenly and abruptly forced to confront our own mortality or that of a loved one, it tends to come as an almighty shock.

Yet, despite the shock and the sorrow of the last few weeks, at times the unmistakeable glimmer of the proverbial ‘silver lining’ has illuminated the dark clouds surrounding my family. To begin with, I have received a valuable lesson in the importance and value of courage. In the circumstances, it is remarkable that the one to deliver this lesson has been my mother herself, who - to her everlasting credit - has remained strong, composed and selfless throughout all of this. I have never once seen her indulge in self-pity or give way to despair and her focus has remained unwaveringly upbeat and positive. Knowing her as I do, I would have expected nothing less of her in this situation; nonetheless, her strength and composure in the face of personal adversity are remarkable because the fact of the matter is this: if my life has been turned upside down, hers has changed forever in the space of just 14 days. Observing the grace and dignity with which she has handled this situation, I can only hope that I might have inherited some of the qualities of this remarkable lady.

It is often at the most challenging of times that people draw together and, true to form, my extended family has sprung into action to offer a very welcome transatlantic network of support and comfort. In addition, my relationship with my brother has unexpectedly transformed itself. Until recently, we had never been close but the shared difficulties of the last few weeks have given us a sense of common purpose and unity. I have also been fortunate to count on the support of my ‘other’ family - made up of a close-knit circle of close friends who I regard as honorary siblings. Despite the geographical distance between us, they never fail to step up to the mark when help is needed. Within a couple of hours of sending a simple four-word text along the lines of “help, I need you!” its recipient, who happened to be on a business trip in Petra, Jordan had got out of whatever she was doing and called me. She was so keen to offer her support in any way she could that she offered to come and clean the toilet bowl in my parents’ house, bless her!

However, throughout the highs and lows of the last few life-altering weeks, my greatest source of strength and wisdom – keeping me on course throughout all the turbulence - has been my Buddhist faith. I have come to appreciate just how fortunate I am to follow a philosophy that offers pragmatic yet profound guidance on how to cope with life, especially when the going gets tough. This is truly the greatest of blessings because my Buddhist prayers enabled me to maintain a connection with my mother during the period when she was attached to various machines and fighting for her life - making direction communication impossible. Throughout this time, I felt an unwavering conviction that she could feel the vibrations of my daimoku (Buddhist chants) and I knew that they were having a positive impact on her physical and psychological state. She later told me that she knew that she was not battling alone: she felt my prayers. She also felt the healing energy from the prayers of all our beloved friends and family who were earnestly praying for her in their respective corners of the world. We were not all praying to the same God - or in my case, to any God at all - but in the final analysis, Buddhist prayers, Christian prayers, Muslim prayers are all one in the same, as long as they are offered with a loving intention. This is the wonderful thing about prayer: it has the transformative and restorative power to deliver hope, light and life to the darkest of situations. Sadly, there is a lot of confusion about prayer: some people seem to think that it is an irrational attempt to bargain with a non-existent Divine being, others confuse it with positive thinking. Yet ultimately, prayer is Action and my mother most definitely sensed the effects of that most loving of actions when she most needed it.

Over the last couple of weeks, I have learnt to live in and appreciate the present moment, taking each day as it comes and giving thanks for it. Moreover, despite my sorrow and fearfulness about the future, my faith has given me the courage to never give up. Buddhism always reminds me that no matter how insignificant and powerless I may feel, I have the capacity to affect whatever situation I may find myself in – no matter how difficult  – in a positive way

I would like to end this post with a quote from Nichiren Daishonin.

Though one might point at the earth and miss it, though one might bind up the sky, though the tides might cease to ebb and flow and the sun rises in the west, it could never come about that the prayers of the practitioner of the Lotus Sutra Sutra would go unanswered.

(Passage from “On Prayer”, The Writings of Nichiren Daishonin)