words from a friend

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Recently, I got back in touch with an old friend. It has been a few years, and well, I have no good excuses for not keeping in better touch with her. Maybe you have some relationships like this?

She is beautiful and amazing, a bit wacky (in the best sense of the word) and guru of sorts. She is an artist, a mother, a lover, a yoga instructor and a wonderful lady. She is friend of my fathers, met him in a grocery store when I was just a wee little girl. Recently she sent me an email, sharing with me how much she wished that she and my mom could have been friends. She sent me part of a favorite piece of literature, that after I get through my reading list, I look forward to picking up. Here is what she sent me.

Each human represents a unique and valuable experiment
on the part of nature . . . the very special and always significant and
remarkable point at which the world's phenomena intersect, only once in this
way and never again.

That is why every story is important, eternal, sacred;
that is why every [person] as long as [he or she] lives and fulfills the will
of nature is wondrous and worthy of every consideration. In each individual the
spirit has become flesh, in each the creation suffers, within each one a
redeemer is nailed to the cross.

Each life represents a road toward him( or her)self , an
attempt at such a road, the intimation of a path. No one has ever been entirely and completely them self. Yet each one strives to become that — one in an awkward, the other in a
more intelligent way, each as best they can.

       –From the Prologue to Demian, by Hermann Hesse

Thank you Diana. I wish you could have been friends too. She would have loved you, as I do. Amen.

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5 thoughts on “words from a friend

  1. These are lovely. I haven’t read Demian since high school and clearly must do so again immediately!
    Thanks for the comment and the link at my place. My brother who died in April was an undiagnosed bipolar person…he lived as a hermit and died with 700+ cholesterol and 70,000 rounds of ammunition stashed in his home. He refused to consider that there was anything wrong with him or that he was unusual in any way.
    My heart is bleeding all over again…I am so grateful for friends like you who understand.

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