Being with my sister during this holiest of weeks has me considering the experience of presence. The first thing I notice is that I can't be longing for something else than what is right here, in the moment. The longing takes me away. So I stay aware of the many dimensions of Now. Liz resting on her big chair. Wind tossing branches outside. Chimes in a neighbor's yard. A pile of paperwork on the table where I sit. Right now the moment is quiet enough to give me opportunity to write. It isn't always like that. Other times the TV competes with voices of family, a multitude of tasks require attention. And always Liz's illness calls to the hearts of all of us in ways that encourage us to grow into a more expansive expression of our love.
Holy Week has always been significant to my sister, and this year she is living it. Ideas about all we remember during this time have become the reality of right Now. Thought has been absorbed into pure being. She lives the greatest presence of all this year. It isn't necessary to "recall" the sufferings of the Christ: she has become the Icon of that Suffering One.