I have been thinking of Mary lately.
After over thirty years away, having been drawn again into the orbit of the Yoga community like a comet that has drifted long in other realms, I remember my first encounter with the practice at the Vancouver Yoga Fitness Institute somewhere about 1967. It was Mary's suggestion and, because of my fondness for her, I laid aside my scepticism and decided to give it a try.
Climbing the stairs to the studio of Bina-ji, whom Mary loved, I had an odd sense of coming home. Of course Mary loved many people, her heart seemed limitless at times, but I had to admit that Dr. Bina Nelson was quite remarkable.
We attended classes and went on a couple of retreats. The flow of Yoga began to erode the bulwarks that I had erected based on a difficult early history. In the newly formed breaches Mary planted seeds of possibility. It was only recently that I began to remember the origins of the resulting blooms.
Living a continent apart, I allowed our contact sometimes to wane and actually lost track of Mary for a while prior to her death a few years ago. The last time I was able to track her down and write, she replied, sending me a letter with a packet of lily bulbs.
I cannot find them.
I continue to learn, and probably always shall, to be aware and caring of relationships. Mary's lost lilies and our vanished companionship are a lesson to me. But, although her plants do not grace my front step, flowers of many diverse hues bloom within.
Thank you, Mary, peerless teacher whose lessons last a lifetime and more.