Vale, dear friend, Misha Norland

Beloved Misha

What am I both mourning and celebrating?

The richness and integrity of our conversations, his delightful open questions. Listening to his choice of music in the ‘hallowed’ space in the sacred middle space.

The walks in the woods and Devon pathways.

Misha’s big smile, wise words, quiet presence and always, a very warm welcome.

I am grateful and enriched from my times with Brigitte and Misha over the years and more so from my last overnight stay arriving on New Year’s Day last year at their new home. Quiet and heartfelt time.

A few months later engaging in two very memorable conversations with Misha and Murray in Tiruvannamalai about love, life and death and beyond…as always. I will miss those talks.

These times filled my cup with friendship, understanding, care, integrity and fun. Overflowing with love and gratitude for all Misha contributed to my life.

To Brigitte and your beautiful family – much love and space for tears in this sacred time of being together – of saying goodbye to your beloved. Holding you with love in the garden of seasons, of love and sorrow.

Narayana and I will miss his warm, caring, cheeky presence and his hugs.


Without fail, on every visit, Narayana and I would be invited into his study to sit, in the perfect place between the speakers and listen to exquisite pieces of music. Words fail me to describe the joy I felt in this intimacy.

Dvořák: String Quartet No.12 in F major, Op.96 – “American” B.179 – 1. Allegro ma non troppo


A few poems and photographs from Christmas emails from Misha and Brigitte. The photograph of Misha and his beloved, dog, Bear who died a few years ago now, is a very familiar image of us sitting in the woods together, in silence, just listening, just being.

25th December 2019

Being pilgrims

we are sure to find God

in dandelion and buttercup,

to hear the counterpoint

of birds, the tongues of streams,

the music of stars.

We may be healed by offering

our embrace

to the blueness of the world.

And when we die, we shall not

be proud, because we know life is

fleeting as a melting snowflake.

The pure joy of buttercups


Christmas, 24th December 2012.

A pot had been forgotten in a pond.

Because water inside had been divided

from water outside, it believed it was unique.

For sure, potter’s hands had shaped clay,

and since never before, had there been a pot

exactly like this, the water it contained

had identified itself: it was it!

Eventually pottery gave way

and water, experiencing its nature, wondered

why it had maintained such prolonged effort

to believe in a separate existence.

Gradually, as the pot returned to mud, a lotus grew,

that heady with knowing, reached above itself.

What did it see from this elevation, if not the context

of all existence: a grand scheme of ponds and fields,

potters and basket-weavers; the industry of civilizations

generating and dissolving essences of being.


Prayers

Where like-minds link,

and from which

heavenly harmonies radiate,

bliss extends

to encompass the world.

No barriers stall

the development of

radiance.

It is a gossamer

finer than atoms. It is

a rhapsody formed

of star light.


Without ego we would have absence, informed by awareness and illuminated by consciousness. An image of a still lake illuminated by shafts of sunlight. In stormy weather, Kali and her cohorts would come, and go.

Love and hugs, Misha


Confidence

Faith is knowing and experiencing that
separation is illusory, connection is without end.
It is in your feet, at your root, in your belly!

Faith resides in eternity,
is steady in the moment; other experiences
that derive from it, come and go, come and go…


A tribute from Misha’s son, Mani, who wrote this on the Memorial Page, Celebrating Misha.

I write with tears in my eyes and a deep sadness in my heart, as my beloved father, friend, mentor and soul mate, Misha has passed away. He inspired and loved so many of us.

He slipped away peacefully in his sleep on Friday 26th November in the night. He looked at peace. From Misha’s perspective, it was the perfect death…slipping away in his sleep, on a stormy night. For all of us left behind, it was far too early. I would have liked more: more of his kindness, his wisdom, his love, our walks, our hugs, our laughs. His light shone so very bright. He radiated love. He embodied kindness. He remains in our hearts and in his gift to homeopathy – his life’s work lives on, his legacy will continue to inspire many students to become wonderful homeopaths.

I love you Misha.

Mani

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