Today may be a delicate day for right speech. My Buddhist teacher has cognitive issues that make confidence in what is being heard and understood by her difficult to assess. She has short term memory lapses, and though a person tells her again and again she forgets she's asked and been answered. This weekend is the last meeting of our study group, so it is poignant and saddening. We feel it is dangerous for her to be driving here, but understand how devastated she must feel about not being able to be that independent any longer. We will miss her, but have been saying the long goodbye for the last several years, and many of us have other regular teachers, since she lives too far for regular meditation and she's ceased holding retreats.
I know she's in my heart and mind permanently, and she transformed my life forever. She set me on the path. She helped me study for and take my vows. She woke me up to my patterns of behavior and my blind spots. Her voice guides me. I know what she would say in almost every situation.
She'll be coming to spend the night with me and do this last group tomorrow morning at my house. I feel the air already heavy with import, and the huge responsibility I have hosting this meeting. I will be guided by her behavior and the others. But part of me is crying inside.
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