Tribute to Susan Edwards

Being Susan . . .

2008-11-30T20:44:00.003-04:00

Susan was one of those seminal people in my life who called me forth, pushed my edges, and challenged my comfort zone. I imagine a lot of people felt this way about her.

We both arrived in Boulder in the fall of 1979 to begin teaching at Naropa. During the early years of our friendship our conversations often felt like a tennis match with her sharp insightful mind sending fast balls flying over the net and me staggering around in the middle of the court with no racket, helpless and confused. But over the years of our Naropa collaborations I learned how to hold my own, how to pick up that racket and hit the ball back with love and force. I learned how to stay in the game with her. This is all Susan ever wanted from the world. In spite all her intensity, of being "too much", she deeply loved, applauded and appreciated anyone who kept sending the ball back to her, staying in dialogue. It is a deep happiness for me that we kept our alive connection all these years. The conversation was never boring . . .

During those years that we performed together and co-directed the Naropa Book Arts program Susan was the visionary, the one who held the big "heaven" view, the one who got everyone laughing. I was the detail person, the straight man to her jokes, the "earth" principle, attending to the practicalities of planning and counting, cutting and measuring. Eventually I rebelled against this role and we fought our way through to a new relationship--a fierce love and respect fueling our way.

Those early Naropa years stirred and cooked up so much nourishment. We were exploring language and imagery, calligraphy and culture, ancient wisdom and spontaneous insight. Susan was my partner in this process--my "worthy opponent" at times. Today I am still shaping and articulating the rich material unearthed in our chaotic, lively collaborations.

At one point during this period Susan remarked to me, "Why are you still writing out other people's words? It's time to let your own voice come forth. "I felt irritated and misunderstood by her at the time, but deep inside I knew she was right and I soon began to uncover my writing voice.

The last time we spoke the conversation was long and deep, leaping around with a lot of laughter and wild pronouncements about our lives. I always felt such a fundamental support from her. Talking with her I trusted myself more. But eventually, as always happened, I had to end the conversation, probably before she was ready. I was full up, couldn't take in anymore, had to catch my breath. She knew she was too much, but she couldn't help pushing the boundaries. It was an expression of her sadness and her courage that she just kept being her intense outrageous insightful self. And this is what I so deeply loved about her, and will so fiercely miss.

Barbara Bash

To Susan Edwards

2008-11-30T11:18:00.001-04:00

To Susan Edwards

You helped me navigate the rivers of the underworld

When my life was falling apart

You gave me a ball of yarn to cross the labyrinth

You guided me insightfully and patiently through

the ancient Symplegades, the Crashing Rocks of destiny

So that I could reach the other shore.

When I faltered, you extended a helping hand

When I felt powerless, you empowered me

When I got stronger, you rejoiced with me.

Lady of wisdom and compassion,

I feel fortunate to have known you.

May the emptiness and luminosity of your mind

Guide you on your journey.

With love and gratitude,
Leda

Fwd: Poem before you die

2008-11-29T10:51:00.001-04:00

Begin forwarded message:

Poem for Susan

Susan

Will this reach you before you die?

Should I care

You would not

Yesterday I hear you are in the end stage,

What I cry, when were you dying?

I still have more questions.

How we met,

on a late night at Lake Louise

I arrived at seminary in the dark,

Went to my room, and you

You were my roommate

I cried myself to sleep.

Who was this outrageous woman that I was going to have to spend three months with?

I was doomed

In days I learned how fortunate I was,

A quick lesson in my stupid conventional thought

You who knew me, better than most,

Who could make fun of me, like no other with such honesty and love.

You were convinced forever we were meant to know each other, thrown together by the Regent

We were seminary sisters.

Your loyalty to me , was like none other.

You proclaimed my greatness out loud

You stood your ground, took the bed next to the window,

As you sermonized about my drinking

My clothes

We were both tidy.

But it was later in my life that you served me.

Bound by the blood of our three months in Canada

You were an ear and a patron of my deepest depressions.

You knew me, and were unafraid to speak the truth

To cradle me in the loving kindness , that recognized the spectrum of my existence

And would call a spade a spade.

You came close enough to see

You were never afraid of the ugliness

You were never afraid to proclaim the virtue of beauty

You were never afraid to make fun of me.

I will forever be indebted to your chuckle, and warm softness , that came so close

It is not a surprise that you

Would die on your own terms

But please know, the tarot cards, your poetry, you dealt for so many of us,

Were the hallmarks of our lives

You reigned supreme.

Let this poem reach you to say.

Thank you so much Susan for holding my pain so close to your heart.

And being able to laugh at it.

I will never forget you.

I love you so much.

I still don't know why you called me Sister Wind,

Adios you cracker jack

Love

Irene

For Susan

2008-11-26T16:43:00.001-04:00

Was walking back from Boulder Community just now, where i'd last seen Susan and Denny outside on a cheerful sunny day not that long ago and we'd laughed alot, and this poem arrived whole.

Sonnet for Susan

Listening to the music of the MRI, i thought:

Does the universe have a pulse? retaking

my metal, am free to walk the dry creek

bed. Its treasures: one buckle shoe, pink

and flowery folding chair. Late robins grub

among scrappy leaves.

I think of you

readying for flight, leaving behind fat words,

resting in heartbreak, in the skittery and unknown

unknown. We practice for this, letting go

sweet bubbling liquid life, juicy mirror black-

backed with pain. I have nothing to give you

but this shoe, calligraphic scratch of leaves,

and three rich robins staying to miss you.

om tare tu tare tu re svaha

May all beings be peaceful.
May all beings be happy.
May all beings be safe.
May all beings awaken to the light of their true nature.
May all beings be free.
-----metta prayer

love, beverly

A reflection dedicated to Susan Edwards's passing

2008-11-26T11:59:00.001-04:00

It is life itself that cries out to live.

Nothing more can be added to that truth.

It is not you or I that wants to live

But rather life within us that cries out,

That seeks its own perpetuation reflexively.

Life is a force

It is a fifth force in nature

Just as there are gravitational, electro-magnetic, weak and strong nuclear forces,

There is life.

Everything that surrounds life is the result of its force:

Physical strength, intelligence, logic, all manner of adaptation and all the creations of mankind are extensions of the force of life , the result of the exertion of that force.

The evolution of life's creatures is the force of life moving in opposition to entropy.

Death is the single catalyst of growth for the cause of death is entropy and it is the fabric of the grade of the hill.

We are pushing life up that hill

When one of us drops another takes his of her place.

It is the hill of evolution and at the top is a transformation to a state that is presently not conceivable. It is a jump to a next state, just as pre-linguistic beings moved to a state of linguistic being, so there will be a next state in the evolutionary hierarchy as unavailable to our imaginations today as the transistor was to Lucy.

Buddha Speed

2008-11-25T23:13:00.001-04:00

for Susan Edwards

Gray cloudbanks, like blankets, fill the western sky

Om tare tuttare ture svaha, sings the cheerful dakini.

Susan how quickly you are gone.

Your smile that dispels fear and anxiety lives now in the air

Around us.

Om tare tuttare ture svaha, Om tare tuttare ture svaha

No breath of wind blows today

On this Longmont street.

And in the still light, I listen.

I feel your magic,

Your hug,

Your eyes,

Your warm heart,

Your golden wings.

Om tare tuttare ture svaha, the cheerful dakini sings.

Om tare tuttare ture svaha, Om tare tuttare ture svaha…

Elaine Logan

To Susan Edwards

2008-11-25T23:10:00.001-04:00

You helped me navigate the rivers of the underworld

When my life was falling apart

You gave me a ball of yarn to cross the labyrinth

You guided me insightfully and patiently through

the ancient Symplegades, the Crashing Rocks of destiny

So that I could reach the other shore.

When I faltered, you extended a helping hand

When I felt powerless, you empowered me

When I got stronger, you rejoiced with me.

Lady of wisdom and compassion,

I feel fortunate to have known you.

May the emptiness and luminosity of your mind

Guide you on your journey.

With love and gratitude,
Leda Powers

Sonnet for Susan

2008-11-25T23:07:00.001-04:00

Was walking back from Boulder Community just now, where i'd last seen Susan and Denny outside on a cheerful sunny day not that long ago and we'd laughed alot, and this poem arrived whole.

Sonnet for Susan

Listening to the music of the MRI, i thought:

Does the universe have a pulse? retaking

my metal, am free to walk the dry creek

bed. Its treasures: one buckle shoe, pink

and flowery folding chair. Late robins grub

among scrappy leaves.

I think of you

readying for flight, leaving behind fat words,

resting in heartbreak, in the skittery and unknown

unknown. We practice for this, letting go

sweet bubbling liquid life, juicy mirror black-

backed with pain. I have nothing to give you

but this shoe, calligraphic scratch of leaves,

and three rich robins staying to miss you.

om tare tu tare tu re svaha

May all beings be peaceful.
May all beings be happy.
May all beings be safe.
May all beings awaken to the light of their true nature.
May all beings be free.
-----metta prayer

love, beverly

Susan Edwards died this morning

2008-11-25T16:53:00.004-04:00

Susan Edwards, writer, poet, teacher, and life-long student of Trungpa Rinpoche, died at her home in Boulder, Colorado this morning (25 November 2008). She will be missed by many. Bon voyage Susan!