It was November 6Th, 1996. Around 2.00 pm. I leaned over the railing outside my Masters house watching the golden leaves fall from the Lindon Tree in the garden at Shasta Abbey. I was commenting to the monk beside me that I felt no sadness. There was a sort of joy, almost elation in the air. How could this be? My Master had just died. Breathed her last. He commented something to the effect that it was like another leaf falling from a tree. Then I went indoors and got on….
And that’s what I’ve been doing ever since. There is that which endures, joyfully.