In India and other parts of the world the celebration of Diwali, also called Deepavali, has just ended. Diwali is a major Hindu festival that symbolises the victory of good over evil. Lamps are lit as a sign of celebration and hope for mankind. The festival of Diwali is about harvesting and celebrations focus on lights and lamps, particularly traditional diyas. And while Deepavali is popularly known as the "festival of lights", the most significant esoteric meaning is "the awareness of the inner light."
Central to Hindu philosophy, is the assertion that there is something beyond the physical body and mind which is pure, infinite, and eternal, called the atman. Just as we celebrate the birth of our physical being, Deepavali is the celebration of this Inner Light, in particular the knowing of which outshines all darkness (removes all obstacles and dispels all ignorance), awakening the individual to ones true nature, not as the body, but as the unchanging, infinite, immanent and transcendent reality. With the realization of the Atman, comes universal compassion, love, and the awareness of the oneness of all things (higher knowledge). This brings Ananda (Inner Joy or Peace).
There was a man who helped me become aware of my inner light. And this past weekend, I was informed that this particular light from my past had been extinguised. Tom was extreme and passionate. An addictive personality, he struggled with his addiction. When I knew him, he had turned from drugs and alcohol and had been 10 years clean and sober. He attended AA meetings religiously, was open and wanted to know every detail of my life, my thoughts and my dreams. We connected immediately after what I was to learn was standard cruising protocol. Me? I was innocent, I actually thought I knew him and after the second time I turned around, I knew that he would introduce himself. He did, in front of the Faerie Queen chocolate store on Castro Street in San Francisco. It seemed fated ... like we were supposed to meet. And for one summer, before student teaching and substituting, we had a fabulous time.
I thought I saw him five months ago. I was on a bus heading home and saw construction being done on an old laundry mat on Divisadero. The location was across the street from a butcher shop that Tom claimed had the freshest meat in town. The bus was stopped and there was a man I would have sworn was him, talking to one of the construction workers. I had my iPaq and looked up his number, found it and called. Turns out it wasn't him, he was still in Marin county bidding on a contract. We talked for a few minutes and he asked if he could call me back later. He didn't and that was the last I heard from Tom.
Tom was a burst of light and had a contagious laugh. He was shocking and inappropriate at times, which caused my consternation, but he was also my first real love and a friend. He was the person who supported me coming out to my family, the person that helped me escape South Korea, the person who helped me tap my emotional being and the person I fought with extensively. The funny thing about my memories of Tom is not that they are clouded toward the negative, but that they are fairly balanced in their extremes.
I went through pictures last night and realized how much time has passed. It is no longer 1993. I can see Tom holding my aunt Shirley's hand at Glide memorial church, encouraging her to sing "Wade in the Water Children" while dancing. This is just as memoriable as yelling at each other on the streets of Canon Beach or skinny dipping under a waterfall off the road to Hanna. And of course, I'll never forget working construction for him and having a wall of plaster come loose and hit me on the head. His reaction? "You cannot bleed on the job!" The pictures with friends, Tami, Warren, Kris, Kimberly and Shelby are things of the past. I had to step away from the flame of Tom before I ignited and burned. The intensity was too much. And now? Now I hope he can hear me say simply, Thank you. I hope you have peace, joy, and love surrounding you and that you find the atman.
I Just Came To Say Goodbye, Love Goodbye, Love Came To Say Goodbye, Love,
Goodbye.- Mimi, from the musical Rent
