the plane is always dropping

It is Valentine's Day. This morning was happy, with a new, squishy teddy bear for Samy, a singing card for Freddie (open it up and it sings "I Got You Babe," to remind him of one fateful night of karaoke years ago), and a visit to Walpan to give cards and chocolate to people that have no one to remember them. It is also a sad day - we found out that a neighbor, Gerry Niewood, died on the plane crash in Buffalo. He was young, a vibrant musician, father of two, husband of one, and a big contributor to our community. My heart goes out to his wife and children.

Death is a by-product of birth, whenever it comes. But still, it shocks and saddens. When it comes suddenly, it throws into sharp relief what is truly meaningful about life, and what is meaningless. As Geshe Michael Roach writes in his translation of the Yoga Sutras, "When we take a trip by airplane, we tend to focus on small things: the food, the movie, the person next to us. Then if the plane suddenly drops, we think about death, about what we did with our life, about what might happen after we die. But we can (and will) die any time, even sitting in a chair at home. The plane is always dropping. It's alright - it's a good thing - to enjoy life. We should enjoy it. But we should also enjoy the work of finding its deeper meaning, and not lose our life in little distractions and attachments."

When something traumatic happens, we remember for a while. We make a point to tell our loved ones we love them, we hug our children more tightly, we pledge to ourselves that we are going to live more meaningful lives. But before we know it, we're back to life as usual, sweating the small stuff. We forget that our happiness is rooted in cultivating the appropriate relationship to the temporary pleasures and pains of the world. The "things" in our world, from objects to emotions to birth and death, are neutral. It is how we approach them that determines whether we experience them as leading to pain or pleasure. To quote Sri Satchidinanda, "Electricity is good when you plug in a radio but bad when you plug in your finger." "Things" don't cause our grief. What causes pain is our relationship to these "things," which is often based on the unrealistic expectation that we will have them, whether they are relationships or objects, forever. This is not to say that we don't feel sadness or loss when someone passes; of course we do. But the point is to live life fully NOW. Don't wait. Express your love, gratitude, and generosity today. The plane is always dropping.