Letter: Sweet Nancy
Nancy Pfister’s stolen time suddenly throws aspects of ourselves off balance. Like the architecture of a cathedral, the construction of our identities is held together by contrasting tensions. If a supporting premise falters, we may have a crisis of readjustment; sometimes demons find footing within. Sweet Nancy had her share, yet she blazed a path of enthusiasm, and if she intuited you as a good person, she had a way of focusing her joy on you that made anyone in her searchlight feel special.
When she was out and about and happy, she was a rolling Pied Piper who swept others up in her high spirits, befriending strangers and acquaintances while creating an impromptu posse that culled itself depending upon the freewheeling staying power of her companions. Her untethered nature was a phenomenon. As a young woman her beauty, charisma and freedom of movement could beguile men and cause disaffection in some women. Her high frequency required patient understanding from her true friends.
Nancy grabbed existence and lived it, especially in her extensive world travels. Her time with us assumed a form of beingness in the moment, wherein she flourished best in the now of place and time with all its possible outcomes. In this way, she danced in the middle of karmic intersections.
Such unbridled style reminds us to appreciate the vibrancy of every instant. In that regard, Zen Master Dogen said that the past is remembered as past in the present moment and the future is expected as future in the present moment. Each moment carries all of time. Thus a moment has an aspect of timelessness. In this respect, “now” is eternal.
With tangled emotions, we yield Nancy to the eternal now. She was a sweetheart — one of our own — and too tragically she is gone.
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