Love and Reformation

One thing I remember most about my brother is how alive he was just before he died. I know also that this was a conscious decision and effort on his part, applied with uncommon energy even in the throes of terminal cancer, in fact because of the cancer.

Facing the certainty of death, he underwent a dramatic shuffling and reordering of priorities. Relationship thrived at the core of his being. He reached out, to family, to friends, to enemies, to the otherwise anonymous human being.

My brother had this advantage. He knew with a certainty that he would soon be leaving this world. The knowledge freed him. He was able at last to devote himself to love, to forgiveness, to connection despite the barriers of the past which imprison.

I call this an advantage, and so I believe. There appears to be no better way to recapture the essential goodness that should always have been at the very heart of our being than to find oneself facing the absolute end of all of life’s hermit-like carefulness and conceit.

My friends, we are all about to die, we are all about to leave this world. We who have MS, or any other serious disease, bear within ourselves the workings of our own demise. Please don’t misunderstand me. I am not saying that MS is always fatal. It is, however, very often closely acquainted with whatever does prove fatal in the end.

We have, therefore, no time to waste. We have nothing to protect ourselves against other than the illusion that time is on our side. Reach out, love, mend, heal, encourage, reconnect—and if those in the world who are healthy and eternal will not receive the good will you offer, do not tire, but try yet again, and know that you were born to do so.