Over and out!

Well, it is the 49th day since your passing and I do hope that you are where you had hoped to be. The ashes are in Halifax, but I know you are watching all of us closely here on earth. I can only imagine the next time I see something that reminds me of you, a bug, an animal, a bird, so many things from our visits to the farm and fishing trips with mom and dad I will wonder....is that Ben?....coming back to say hello, or then again to haunt me. :)

Yes, the two things we had in common were the same parents and great a sense of humor, but our lives certainly took different paths. Amazing, how as your younger sister, I was the one that was driven to be successful and not be dependant upon anyone but myself. On the other hand, you were the one that was so extremely bright and could do anything that you put your mind to, but alas, you didn't like or want to work!

I was so happy that you made the effort to come to Jackson this past summer. You were so ill, and I know it was very difficult for you. As challenging as it was, you made your rounds of goodbyes. Thank you!

You were so fortunate to have had Sandy there for and with you these past 3 years. She was a trooper, and certainly made the best of a sad situation.

As we often said at the end of our phone conversations, always with a chuckle...over and out. I will miss those calls, but thankful that you are no longer suffering and the pain has ended.

With love,

Susan

To Ben on the 49th day

Ben Pontius Kado

Hey Ben,

I just got back from the ceremony at the Shambhala Centre to mark the 49th day since your passing. It was quite well attended. Sandra and Bob Gailey presided.

Sandra led off with a piece that she had written about you and your relationship with her. It was really well done. Not only was it well written, but it was also very straightforward, cheerful and uplifting. It was touching but not sappy. I think you would have appreciated it. That set the tone for the ceremony which was on the one hand traditional, with readings from the Tibetan Book of the Dead (the prayers at the end of the book), but at the same time very relaxed.

Your picture burned beautifully, falling in a flaming mass that hung over the side of the large bowl and, for a moment, burned on the table top itself, before Sandra and Bob reached and over and scooped it back in.

The whole ceremony probably lasted less than 30 minutes; it was quite precise and elegant, just like you. A pleasant reception followed right in the shrine room.

Your ashes were in a beautiful wood box, open on the shrine. Sandra joked that it was 'open casket'. After the ceremony a number of people, including myself, came up and spent a moment with you and your ashes. Sandra will take them to Dorje Denma Ling to be scattered tomorrow. I'm sorry I can't be there. It will be the first of December; the weather is typical Nova Scotia; lots of clouds, some snow flurries, temperature around freezing.

I wanted to tell you that Sandra looks great. Of course she is sad, grieving for sure. But at the same time she looks great. She seems very steady, physically, psychologically and spiritually. Last weekend I happened to see her at the Sakyong's community weekend program and talked to her for five minutes. I was so impressed with her presence. What ever her experience has been over the past several years, it seems that she has grown with it.

So you can turn your attention to what comes next. You know, as we were reading the chants from the Tibetan Book of the Dead I was noticing that they talk a lot about how scary the experiences are after death, and how much help the dead person needs to navigate through. But I had the definite feeling that you were not having a terrible time. I had the definite sense that you were handling the experiences as you handled your mind through all those years that I knew you; in a very straightforward way, with a sense of humor, with humbleness, and particularly with unswerving, unbroken devotion.

You handled a lot of shit when you were alive; I have the sense that you can handle a lot of shit now that you are dead.

I've been reading Ponlop Rinpoche's book recently; Mind Beyond Death. It reminds me of what I heard Trungpa Rinpoche say, which was that the only way to prepare for death was to work with your mind right now; and really the only thing we have to do, dead or alive, is to work with our own mind.

So you have gone on before me. I noticed that I am just one month older than you; your birthday is December 20, mine is November 17. We were both born in 1941; you in Iowa, me in Michigan. And now your incarnation as Richard Benjamin Pontius is over. Mine as David Whitehorn continues for a while, who knows how long. The fact that we were born so close to the same time, not that far away physically; and the fact that we found the same teachings, and the same teacher, and that we both were drawn to the Kasung path; all of that suggests to me that we have a close karmic connection and that as the complex web of phenomena continues to unfold, we will once again serve together.

Perhaps it will be something like the time, ten years ago at Dorje Denma Ling, when you and I and Barbara Zelinski were the only kasung for an Atlantic Region Shambhala leadership conference. You may remember that we were on duty 24/7 for the entire three days, running from one post to another. It would be wonderful to have that much fun again with you.

Bon voyage,

David Whitehorn, Rupon
(Mountain Drum)
30November2007
Halifax

Very Funny

I suppose this is your idea of a joke!

For crying out loud I'll remember you even more now that you've run off like this.

Charles Gillard

Ben Pontius

Poem For My Best Friend

Ben.1

You seem happy without me

Sometimes, happier without me.

(But how would I know?)

Your version of a man is wonderful to me.

I love you wholesome.

(When you haven't had one more than I can handle.)

You keep your pain to yourself while I keep trying

To close the gap between us.

(Chattering . . . Looking for a response . . . A clue . . . )

I'll try to love you

From over here!

Ben.2

You've taken a hard road, and what pleasure you could find.

My heart breaks when I think of you.

Please remember that you are precious and time is short.

Ben.3

Sweetheart.

Gingersnap.

Chocolate bar.

Sportif.

Meat.

Laughter.

Drinks.

Cigarettes.

Good looks.

Sun.

Faith.

Genius.

Earnest.

Processed.

Lover.

My true love.

from Sandra Pontius

November 9, 2002

This poem was written on a rainy day in Halifax. Ben often laughed at the third line: "(But how would I know?)." He considered it a punch line! Like all people who love each other madly, we wanted to protect each other from samsara. I think some of my feelings in that regard are reflected here, along with the pleasure I felt being with him.

Ben Pontius

My image of Ben Pontius is that of a 16 year old with a smile, laugh, spirit and enthusiasm as I knew him in high school.   From the remembrances, it sounds that they stayed with him all these years.   His memory will be honored at our 50th class reunion in Fort Dodge, Iowa in 2010.

 

Ruth Glesne Peterman

Ben Pontius

Mr. Upright

Dear Ben of the razor features
And aquiline mind
Crisp and sharp voice
Focused intelligence
Master of the pointed sly question
Eerily serene with such a quizzical smile
Upright, upright, right up, right left, never left behind
Not too tight or too loose
Well sometimes too tight
But never too loose
A shining example
With clear blue gaze broadcasting spectral gold and purple
Pontius will always be just another name for Mukpo

with a tear for another wonderful fallen comrade...
Marty Janowitz
Kusung Dapon Kyi Khyap ret.
Warrior General
Friend and Shambhala dharma brother

Ben Pontius

Dear Comrade:

With an ancient name

like to be spoken from Shakespeare's lips.

Standing watch--

tea cup or chamber pot,

sake, cigarette,

smiling from a far away off.

That smile like Lord Mukpo's.

Hearing that you died

sitting by this peat bog fire

I was filled with overwhelming sadness.

In the smoke earth flame

saw your smile

again on Court watch.

It is engraved upon my heart.

Filled with joy of its memory

regardless

of

time.

Thank you.

Always,

Seonaidh

(Dapon Perks)

Remembering Ben Pontius

by Paul T. Wegener

Ben Pontius was and was not. His favorite gesture was either a shrug, or a laugh. He embodied the ideal of non-attachment, appearing as a person in body and conversation, yet without any strong opinions or attachment. We spoke a lot over the years, mostly by telephone between our exile islands; our stock exchange was "Still twitchin," as in "restless meditator." He practiced a good deal, but never put on any airs, and he manifested very few signs of accomplishment. No miracles, just another cigarette.

Yet he never wavered in his devotion and he practiced mostly guru yogas. He served as a kusung at all times and places, to the Druk Sakyong and Sakyong Mipham, willing to give up 24 hours at a time to enter their world and help. He told me the contrast was sometimes too much; too much sanity was overwhelming, but he always went back for more, with a laugh and a shrug.

One of my favorite memories was searching Halifax with him and my wife Brenda for some sort of celebration on a New Year's Eve. He was in the back seat, wise-cracking and keeping us going while we circled the downtown or ventured into clubs and hotels, finding nothing; it turned out to be a great celebration after all. He made fun of everyone, without making it seem like denigration (I could never manage to be that big-hearted).

His strongest praise was for those who were "kind" and he could infuse that word with real meaning, its transcendent meaning. It had to do with being well trained, that he could stay with what mattered and shrug off the meanness. Kindness was the key to his whole life. He had many relationships, but as soon as they descended into territory, he could not stand it. He wanted to be kind and to surround himself with kindness in the truest sense.

Then he became ill with ALS, Lou Gehrig's disease. He was able to bear up under his sickness with incredible patience, an awe-inspiring fatalism and forebearance. It was so inspiring to see him watch himself decay and then simply report: "I'm a 65-year-old in the body of an 80 year old man." Last summer he gave Happy Hour at SMC so he could go to bed at 6:30 after having seen everyone he wanted. He would still ask again and again whether someone was kind, or to observe that they were.

In speaking of his regard for kindness, we have to remember his wife Sandra; Sandra lived up to Ben's idea of greatness for the last few years, becoming his constant caretaker, his kusung on the longest shift imaginable. She showed herself as a truly kind person, serious and very much herself, yet able to serve and nurture and share a laugh in the looming shadow of death and decay. There was never going to be any relief on this shift, so when he died, she simply did not believe it. She never expected it to end, because she was focused on keeping him going, day after day.

Ben stands out as a true warrior, who recognized the good and the true with complete conviction. He also never believed in attainment, because he was too smart. He saw his own confusion and watched it descend after a moment of clarity. He moved in the intimate personal world of the teachers and their sanity, and emerged to report he was still confused. That clarity and intelligence never wavered and never imposed itself through opinions and pontification. I admire him for it, that he reduced everything to the utter simplicity of clarity or confusion; when it is clear, there isn't much to say, and when it is confused, words are useless. He watched his body taken inch by inch, without complaint, and then died. I will remember that last smile, as I do his others. You were a great warrior. Travel well.

Ben

Ben was born on Dec. 20, 1941. A good teacher, he died on Oct. 12, 2007 -- his wife Sandra's 52nd birthday. Ben and Sandra met in Boston in the mid-80s, and were married in Halifax on Dec. 21, 2001. They enjoyed each other immensely and felt a deep connection. It was his third marriage and her second.

Ben's favorite drink was sake. His favorite foods were pineapple, yellow fin sushi, salmon sushi and eel sushi (although there is a Japanese name for it). He also liked lamb dishes, and corn, as he was born and grew up in Ft. Dodge, Iowa. He spent summers on his grandparents' farm in Minnesota, where he road a fat pony bareback through the fields, singing. He was also on his high school wrestling team, got a wrestling scholarship to college, and was member of Beta Theta Pi fraternity. Math was his favorite subject in school.

Ben had a fantastic smile and charismatic energy. He was a devoted student of both the Vidyadhara and the Sakyong. He met the Vidyadhara in New York City in the early 70s, and thought he was "the most trustworthy guy I ever met." He moved to Boulder shortly thereafter, and worked as a carpenter, helping to build both Karme Choling and Shambhala Mountain Center structures. He was a devoted kasung and a kusung to Mipham Rinpoche for 25 years.

When he turned 40, he became a software engineer, and recently received a patent for an algorithm he invented. Ben was a dual citizen of both Canada and the U.S. The only place that ever felt like home to him was Halifax, he said on many occasions. He loved classical music and Scottish fiddle music.

Ben began having symptoms of ALS or Lou Gehrig's disease in 2004. He experienced constant fasciculations (incessant but painless twitching in his muscles). His body degenerated over the last three years. First, the muscles in his arms atrophied. Next, his throat muscles began to deteriorate. Toward the end, he could not swallow without choking and so he lost about 40 pounds. His voice was very weak. His legs and diaphragm began to deteriorate simultaneously. Ben had a feeding tube placed recently -- a couple of weeks ago -- and we hoped that it would improve his situation. However, his disease had progressed too far. Unable to manage the saliva in his system or to breathe properly, he had a stroke and his heart stopped on October 10. He was resuscitated, and was able to receive final instructions from the Sakyong before life support system was taken off on October 12. He smiled shortly before he died.

Sandra will take his ashes to Nova Scotia for burial or distribution. Ben also is survived by a sister, Susan Park, and a niece, Betsey, who live in Jackson, Wyoming. His nephew, Jeff, lives in Denver, Colorado.

from Sandra Pontius

Mr Pontius

Road warrior with infectious humor
expansive friendliness
joyous lust
courageous endurance
troubles and triumphs
pain and pleasure
and all the rest

such a good dancer
such a good dance

such good preparation
for the dance floor of the bardo.

Jim Lowrey
October 14, 2007