Xavier A. Figarella T. A year since you left the vessel that carried you this life 27/08/2021
Humans have not found a label for the social situation in which a person remains after going through the pain of seeing a son/daughter or a sibling leave this earth. A child without a father or a mother, is called an orphan, and a wife or husband without a partner is called a widow. But what do you call a father or mother who experiences the physical departure of his offspring? What do you call a child who experiences the loss of a sibling? … It is just simply too painful to name. Only silence can understand it.
When I received the news of my brother’s physical departure I felt as if a stone had fallen on me. Something came out of my body and left me almost asphyxiated, my legs did not work and I fell on the floor lost, totally lost.
Thanks to the arms of the people close to me I was able to stand up, and again feel a stinging sensation throughout my body, particularly in the head, throat and chest. Now that I remember the scene, I also remembered that I was observing myself in the middle of the hurricane. I was able to be aware of what was happening without losing contact with the harsh situation that was touching me: having to call my parents and tell them the news.
When someone asked me who was the person I love the most in this life, I undoubtedly said: My brother. My brother taught me the most intimate and tender love I have ever known. It can be said that I was devoted to my brother, because no matter what he did or did not do, I loved him, without limits. I had the great fortune of having a brother with whom I got along well, could talk for hours, whom I admired and who admired me back. I was very fortunate to have that privilege and I acknowledge the gratitud it brings.
During the grieving process that I have lived through, I have been able to observe the amount of LOVE that for 40 years I have felt and still feel for my brother. Given the unexpected nature of his physical departure and the conditions in which the events occurred, I was able to confront myself with the reality that it is not the physical body that unites us with the beings we love, it is something that is not evident to the eyes, and that lives eternally within us.
The love I feel for my brother has not gone anywhere, in fact, it is that same love that has taken me by the hand and helped hold myself with patience and dignity in this deep path of transformation that I am experiencing, and it is that same love that has given me the strength to publish my first book, and to be open to the grace of receiving a new living Master. A gift that I asked for years ago.
The love I feel is the same that helped me get more in touch with all the parts of my story, and discover the beauty of being alive. In the words of Buddha: I came in contact with absolute silence, with my own death, with my own suffering, with the impermanence of the material world, and I found the strength to face the darkest cellars of my memories, accept them, and recover my innocence.
The departure of my brother restored my innocence and helped me understand the level of love that I am capable of experiencing, the strength that devotion requires, and the desire to experience the ultimate truth of life, which is to feel fully and totally sustained by the divinity and love, which is who we really are. To be free from misery and enjoy life fully.
This song that I share today, I dedicate to the GURÚ. To Sri Sri Ravi Shankar, my living Guru, all my previous teachers who led me up to this moment, to my brother my great master of human love and his master S.N. Goenka, and to my inner Guru, to whom I am learning to surrender completely thanks to the teachings and in the hands of my dear Guruji.
For you and for all of you who love: Guru of my Heart.
