It is an increasingly strange feeling being out in the world. For months we have not shopped much. Lately I have taken to shopping in Newburgh, for the anonymity. Sometimes seeing people on the streets of New Paltz sends my heart racing. Not that I have ever heard anything but love and kind words. But our little village is just the reminder of it all. The silence is a reminder, the words are a reminder, the love or absence of love, all are reminders. This is the strange new reality. Sometimes I can forget for a few moments, but I always come back to this new way of living, of being, of holding Maya within me, and of holding the loss too. For months it was all loss, nothing else. Last week I felt something new, something I am still trying to integrate. Can I be happy for just one moment? What does it mean to smile or laugh now? How can I hold the despair and the hope together?
Yesterday the Board of Directors of the Maya Gold Foundation met for the first time. This amazing group of eleven volunteers brought spirit, wisdom and passion to the table, and my heart is filled with gratitude for their presence. Our work now is twofold: to bring programs and support to teens in New Paltz, and to provide essentials to young people in Nepal. The first goal is my response, and Elise’s, and our Board’s now, to this tragedy. The second goal is Maya’s; for she is still with us, moving us, inspiring us to do good work in her name. I am encouraged and moved by this group and for the first time in a long time, I feel some light, some hope, the Candle and the Heart.
The Maya Gold Foundation Board of Directors, 2016
And there is fear. Fear of getting lost in the mission, of being consumed by it, of losing perspective and balance. Not really fear, more like concern for myself. I rely on others to guide me, still, and again, and again…
Our little Foundation will make it’s mark I am sure. Together, our Board and our community will do good, will make positive change. For that I am grateful, but of course, I always weigh it in my mind, the price paid for this good work, well, that measure will never make sense, will always seem like too great a price to pay. And it was.
Bonticou Crag, Summer 2014
Matthew, Your questions are so deeply poignant: “Can I be happy for just one moment? What does it mean to smile or laugh now? How can I hold the despair and the hope together?”
For me, your questions speak to the paradox of life, loss, and memory.
When I lost my brother in a car accident 8 yrs. ago, I remember feeling a little betrayal towards him whenever I felt joy, as if I could not allow myself to feel it with him no longer in the world.
Then I remembered what a fun-loving person he was and whenever I felt joy after that, I didn’t feel I had to do it secretively but instead decided that whenever I laughed out loud it would be “with” him.
It worked for me…..
Thought I’d share it with you.
Blessings and love,
Lucy
Matthew, Again, thank you for your illuminating honesty….I deeply appreciate it, and you.
Mark