Final Moments

"On the surface it was simple enough: a small plane took off from Teeterboro airport in New Jersey on its way to Glens Falls, a small town near Albany. It was lost in fog and crashed into a mountain. One person died and three survived. But superficial narrative does little to convey the depth of the experience. The person who died was Rudi, my spiritual teacher, my guru, the person I loved more than anyone in the world.

I cannot imagine how I would have responded to this news if I hadn’t been in the plane when it hit the mountain and seen Rudi’s body surrounded by wreckage, rocks and barren trees. I never asked myself why it happened. There were simply no answers. I surprised myself by showing little or no outward emotion, never getting angry or upset.

But my inner life raged like a forest fire, and I struggled to find my connection with God. I tried to adjust to life without Rudi. I forgave God and death for taking from me the person who had saved my life. I never shared my innermost thoughts and feelings. I knew that I’d have to work hard on myself to let go of Rudi; I knew that loving him meant building my own connection with Higher Creative Energy in the Universe. I needed to keep Rudi in my heart, to continue his work and climb my personal mountain to spiritual enlightenment. I remember him saying, “The best way to serve your guru is to build your inner life, to get your own connection with God.”Rudi’s meditation practice and unconditional love had helped me through the most difficult period of my life.

Now that he was gone, I wanted him to dance with angels, to be a speck of light in the cosmos, to nestle himself in the bosom of God. I believed that my tears, lamentations and sorrow would only bring him back to earth —they would negate his lifetime of work and surrender. Twenty years had passed since the plane crash. I had spent seven of those years living in Texas where I ran a meditation center. Then I returned to New York City.

I would visit the crash site —to me a holy place where my spiritual teacher took his samadhi —once a year with many students, most of whom had never met Rudi. We’d meditate there, and during those meditations, I realized that birth and death were part of a cosmic dance. One didn’t negate the other. I also realized that Rudi lived inside me. To be with him, I simply had to open my heart, love him, be loved by him, and renew my spiritual quest every day."

-- Stuart Perrin