Monday, March 24, 2008
The Space Between Us?
Blessings To, For, From John
Whatever space there was between us is gone. But John O'Donohue – beloved poet, philosopher, mystic, teacher, friend – is not.
I had the huge and life-changing privilege of working with him for the first half of last year.
Amongst phone calls, e-mails and meetings, we had fun thinking, laughing, drinking, challenging each others’ belief systems and expanding each others’ horizons.
He was always open. And his gentle ways helped me become more so than before.
In the birthing of Benedictus / To Bless the Space Between Us www.jodonohue.com/books/, we discussed love, life, death, and everything before, after and in between.
Where our Irish Catholic and Conservative Jewish ideas differed, we agreed…returning to Druidic roots and realizing universal truths. When we needed to test theories, we learned…turning to physics, neuroscience, philosophy, poetry, nature.
And always, we joked.
John was the most reverent, irreverent, joyous, generous, paradox I knew.
Almost all of the words I can use to express my sorrow at his loss, my gratitude for his presence, my sympathy for his family and my prayers for us all are his words.
Fortunately, he left us a lot of them.
His life serves as a constant reminder to live ours fully and with love.
Thanks to him, I do!
Warmly and with whole heart,
Wendy Dubit www.vergant.com
colleague, fan and friend
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1 comments:
I inly recently discovered John and his work.
I happened to be stuck in the usual mind numbing traffick jam when the Speaking of Faith intervew started on the radio. Before even understanding the conversation, it was the sound of John's voice that made me pull over. He sounded exactly as I imagined Oscar Wilde's voice to sound. The music, tone, fluidity and playfulness of speech had me entranced. When the content of what he was saying began to permeate I was absolutely enthralled.
What a discovery but what a shock to learn that he had recently died. I have began to read his books and, as a recovering Irish Catholic, I find myself arguing out loud to the printed page. But, again like Wilde, there are passages of prose that simply take my breathe away, make me close the book and feel a reconnection with my long neglected soul. Nothing short of a miracle for this cynical, tired, frightened, bemused old international hobo.
Thank you John.
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