MCA

The first thing Mairin said to me this morning when I woke up was,

"MCA is dead. It's all over Facebook."

I thought what I always think when someone dies--My Kitty is a Flower post. I rolled over in bed and stared at the sunshine as it crept into the room and smiled. I pretended I was above death and grief and sadness, because I claim not to believe in attachment, birth, death--you know the drill. Zen 101. I mean why would anyone mourn the death of a true Bodhisattva?

Later, after we all woke up, she took Kaia shopping and left Skye and I alone at home. We blasted Beastie Boy songs, while I swore that his death should not be a reason to mourn, but a reason to celebrate. I tweeted one great MCA line and after another and even made this:


Somewhere in the middle of that video, I started to get choked up. I felt a staggering sense of loss; one that I could barely handle. I need something else. Something more. I sat down and made this:

I will miss you MCA. Thank you for being such an amazing teacher and inspiration. I would not be who I am without you.