What Remains Is the Absolute

As I mentioned last week, I think I may be going through some kind of Monet phase. I spent several mornings last week at the local Arboretum's lily pond, photographing both the lotus blooms and the water lilies. (Okay, so there were a couple of pretty amazing dragonflies too.)

I shared a few of my water lily photos online, and a friend from India wrote me a note in response. Her mother had just passed away the weekend before.

My friend explained that her mother had been cremated, and then her ashes had been placed in an earthen urn and taken to a beach where the family used to go when my friend was a child. My friend waded into the sea and left the urn.

She explained, "There is no English verb for it, so I have to say 'left.' In many Indian languages, there is a sacred word for 'deposited.' Many physical remains of the immortal - ashes, idols, flowers or other offerings from sacred ceremonies - are respectfully deposited in rivers or the sea."

She went on to say, "I like our tradition in which there are no physical remains of a departed loved one. I am not religious, but to me, this is a reminder that the body is fleeting and the soul, eternal. Whatever remains of my mother now is in our memories and hearts."

"I think this is the first time I really understood death as freedom," she said. "I don't know if after-life, rebirth, etc., really exist - if they do, I hope my mom is done with all of hers, and this is really the ultimate peace - what Hindus call moaksh and Buddhists call Nirvana."

She noted that the pale pink lily in my photo resembled a lotus, which signifies purity and detachment from worldly things in Hindu and Buddhist tradition.

The perfection of the water lily reminded her of a verse from the Brihadaranyaka Upanishad, whose rough translation she provided (with the word that means absolute also meaning whole, complete, total):

That is Absolute. This is Absolute.
The Absolute arises from the Absolute.
When you take away the Absolute,
What remains is the Absolute.

And so I dedicate this photo of the water lily to my friend, and it is accompanied with a sincere wish for her mother: that she has found the ultimate peace.