It was like this

It Was Like This: You Were Happy

It was like this:
you were happy, then you were sad,
then happy again, then not.

It went on.
You were innocent or you were guilty.
Actions were taken, or not.

At times you spoke, at other times you were silent.
Mostly, it seems you were silent -- what could you say?

Now it is almost over.

Like a lover, your life bends down and kisses your life.

It does this not in forgiveness --
between you, there is nothing to forgive --
but with the simple nod of a baker at the moment
he sees the bread is finished with transformation.

Eating, too, is now a thing only for others.

It doesn't matter what they will make of you
or your days: they will be wrong,
they will miss the wrong woman, miss the wrong man,
all the stories they tell will be tales of their own invention.

Your story was this: you were happy, then you were sad,
you slept, you awakened.
Sometimes you ate roasted chestnuts, sometimes persimmons.

~ Jane Hirshfield ~

I probably won't last the week

Sorry friends,

The end is coming much sooner than predicted. I won't horrify you with the graphic details; let's just say none of my plumbing is operational. I tried and tried to find a remedy that would allow me to make a farewell tour---even ordered t-shirts :-) All to no avail. I now have 24 hour nursing care which provides a nice break for Paula. I remain as committed as ever to helping Windhorse finish their building. So if you want to help write to aaliyah.haqq@stagen.com

Over the past decade, especially, it has been my honor to serve you in a spirit of mutuality. I learned lot.

I love you all,

Koso

Please feel free to call.

My cell phone number is 512-745-9222. If you would like a chance to say good-bye before I transition, please give me a call. If you get my voicemail, leave a message. I would like to spend as much time as possible in these remaining days communicating with my friends, colleagues and clients. I used to joke that I would die with my headset on. Who knows? Maybe that will come true. LoL

Koso

PS my new email address

koso923@verizon.net

PPS here's a pic of Millie the wonder-pup.

Uh-oh!

Four weeks ago I was doing splendidly. Walking two miles a day. Regaining physical strength. Planning to change the world with a cure for cancer.

We plan; God laughs. And God has sent me a real knee-slapper.

According to the physicians who have read my latest CT Scan, I have 4-6 weeks left to live. I'm currently at 75% renal failure. I have a mass in my intestines that is blocking normal functioning. I've gained 25 pounds of excess "water weight" that has caused my legs and ankles to swell. My hospice doctor predicts another Pulmonary Embolism in my future. Hah, hah, woo-hoo. That's a good one, God.

So how shall I spend my days?

I think I'll put together a schedule and follow it completely. Meditation and breakfast at Windhorse Zen Community, correspondence and phone calls, lunch with loved ones, watching our new puppy crawl all over Rocky the Dharma Dog. Napping in the cool mountain air. Holding and being held by Paula. Life is good. I vow to enjoy every last moment by being as fully present as possible.

I'm not in pain--thanks to the hospice program--they have the best drugs and nobody seems worried about me becoming addicted.

Paula and I are planning a trip to Pennsylvania and Dallas in the next couple of weeks. A kind of farewell tour. Soon as I have our itinerary, I'll let you know. Maybe we can say good-bye in person.

If you are wondering what you might do to participate in this last leg of my journey, I have a suggestion. I would like to raise $75,000 to help the Windhorse Zen Community finish constructing a building that will house a dozen monks. Completion of this building is essential to move the organization from scrambling to scaling. The Windhorse Sangha (community) has been exceptionally kind and welcoming to Paula and me. They helped us find the house we live in after first offering us room in the main house ---even though they knew I had a life threatening illness. A day doesn't go by that we don't feel loved and supported in so many ways large and small. I would like a part of my legacy to be helping this marvelous, mature and compassionate community achieve a new level of sustainability. I'll post more details in future blogs. Thank you all in advance for your generosity.

That's enough for tonight. Know that I'll sleep well tonight. That I'm not afraid. And that I love you all.

Koso