Life often unfolds in ways that transcend the ordinary, where the boundaries between the seen and unseen blur, and we find ourselves touched by something deeper, something beyond our comprehension.
In my own journey, these moments have manifested through the presence of three 'ghosts', threading meditation, support, and encouragement into the very fabric of my existence in ways I never anticipated.
Meditation has become my sanctuary, a quiet refuge where I seek solace and strength amidst life's turbulence. Yet, it remains an elusive realm, not easily summoned at will. It is in the gentle surrender to these moments that the unexpected unfolds, where the sense of presence becomes palpable, and emotions surge forth with a raw intensity that both disconcerts and uplifts.
In the depths of meditation, I often find myself transported to a realm where time seems to lose its grasp, and the boundaries between the living and the departed blur. Here, amidst the whispers of memories and the echoes of love, I am joined by three ethereal figures: Adel, Fanni, and Franciska.
Adel, my late grandmother from Azerbaijan, was a woman of remarkable strength and wisdom, despite her battle with Alzheimer's. As a professor of geology, she instilled in me a deep reverence for the natural world and a passion for learning that continues to shape my life. Though her mind may have faltered, her presence remains etched in the recesses of my soul, a steady beacon of guidance and inspiration.
Fanni, my beloved sister, departed from this world far too soon, her vibrant spirit extinguished by a cruel twist of fate. At just seventeen, she left behind a void that can never be filled. Yet, in the quiet moments of meditation, her laughter echoes in the chambers of my heart, a poignant reminder of the fleeting nature of life and the enduring power of love.
Franciska, my Hungarian grandmother, succumbed to the ravages of dementia, her once sharp mind dulled by the relentless passage of time. Despite the fog of forgetfulness that shrouded her final days, her love remained unwavering, a testament to the resilience of the human spirit in the face of adversity.
In Bali, where honouring the departed is deeply ingrained in the culture, every household has its own sacred space for the deceased. For me, however, I have come to understand that the true repository for my ghosts lies not in physical shrines but in the recesses of my own being. Here, they reside as silent companions, their presence a source of strength and solace in times of need.
Yet, it is not solely through meditation that I commune with these spectral companions. In the ebb and flow of everyday life, they make their presence known in unexpected ways, offering words of encouragement and gestures of support when I least expect it.
One such moment occurred on the eve of my sister's surgery, as I drifted into a light meditation following lunch. In the liminal space between wakefulness and sleep, I felt the gentle touch of my three ghosts, their presence a soothing balm to my anxious soul. With Adel's comforting touch, Fanni's reassuring gaze, and Franciska's tender embrace, I felt a profound sense of calm wash over me, knowing that everything would be alright.
As I embarked on a journey to Hungary, the land of my ancestors, another unexpected encounter awaited me. Presented with a new boarding pass for the business class, I felt the unmistakable presence of my three ghosts, flying alongside me as silent companions on this airborne journey.
In these moments of connection, I am reminded of the boundless power of love and the enduring strength of the human spirit. Though separated by the veil of death, my ghosts remain ever-present, their energy infusing my life with warmth and depth.
So, as I navigate the twists and turns of existence, I carry with me the wisdom of Adel, the spirit of Fanni, and the love of Franciska. They are my constant companions, guiding me with their silent presence and reminding me that, no matter how dark the night may seem, there is always a flicker of light to lead the way.
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