My former friend Benjamin was heartbroken after the death of his daughter. She leaped from a car amid an argument with him. During that time, I did my best to be kind and loving to him, always keeping the conversations playful and buoyant. I did the same for his wife, Sharon, though I felt it was pretty stressful dealing with her as she was carrying immeasurable grief, tension, and trauma. 

While Benjamin hid his emotions well, Sharon wore everything on the sleeve, unaware of her behavior and speech. She had a heart of gold, though, and I did my best to be present to her, even though it was challenging to be in her presence. I never wanted to interfere with her grief and only wanted to offer playful solace to distract her mind from perseverating on the loss of her daughter.

One day, amid my wild and obnoxious jokes, Sharon laughed very hard and then grabbed my arms and kissed me on the lips, with a moment of her tongue trying to pierce through my closed teeth. I pressed my lips firmly to swiftly close and conclude the kiss, both for my own comfort and with compassion for this distraught soul.

I stepped back and told her I loved her but that her kissing me was not comfortable for me – and also inappropriate. She laughed and said she was sorry. I felt terrible about what she did because it was somewhat traumatic for me – on every level. But because of her deep grief, there was no way I could be verbally angry with her. I could never share what I felt, given her fragility. 

But I was very, very upset – for a long, long time.

Why would a kiss upset me? 

As a child, raped by my oldest sister (an angry, deceiving, drug-addicted prostitute) and molested by a sad and lonely priest, I don’t do well with unwarranted affection, especially when it comes to the lips. 

Kissing is very intimate to me, and I do not allow lip kisses with anyone except my life partner. I am cautious with this part of me. Even my hugs are short and sweet now, if at all. 

The aggressive kiss from Sharon hurt my feelings and, more deeply, triggered me into the anger that lay dormant within me for years. Over time, I could release the relationship with Benjamin, realizing his perspective on the event, however misinformed, was self-created. I released so much over the years – mostly the boundaryless family and friends that caused me immeasurable pain throughout my life.

Sadly, Benjamin witnessed Sharon’s kiss and began making myriad assumptions. He never inquired about my problem with the experience and Sharon’s intrusive kiss – and he immediately projected his paranoia and judgment onto me. We never spoke again.

I loved Benjamin, and I had spent a lot of time being playful and loving of him and his wife, Sharon. While they were not necessarily my kind of people – wild, free, open-minded – they were people I had deep compassion and empathy for. Their story of losing a daughter was heartbreaking to me – and I kept that in mind in all of our interactions. I cannot fathom what they lost, nor can I imagine the depth of their grief. I just tried my best to be present and playful for them.

A few months later, I deplaned in Albuquerque from a long trip, and across the terminal, saw Benjamin and Sharon prepping to board a flight to see Amma (Amma.org). I felt very upset by their prior actions, so I felt hesitant to reach out. I still felt deeply hurt, though I had committed to not sharing it, given their grief. I just didn’t feel my feelings were worthy of any attention. (Well, that’s another whole article!)

While I still felt deep compassion and empathy for them, I didn’t want to interfere with their lives any longer – not only for fear of Benjamin’s assumptions, projections, and repercussions but also because I felt their karma was so immense that I could not bear to be tangent to it. I had my own evolution that needed tending. Their whole ecosystem and way of being and assuming made me nervous and uncomfortable.

To everyone’s shock, Sharon had a brain malfunction that night – on that flight – and died soon thereafter. 

While I knew how painful that must have been for Benjamin, his actions to avoid me were palpable, so I did not intrude with any verbal compassion – though I prayed for him for quite some time.

Fast-forward a few years, and my friend Atulita messaged me. We had a playful discussion about the time (long ago) that we kissed (for 10 whole minutes!) and how we appreciated each other as friends. 

She also told me she was beginning to date Benjamin. I thought it was an excellent pairing and expressed great happiness for their union. While we messaged once in a while, we would not speak again. She married Benjamin, but sadly, Atulita died soon after of cancer.

Benjamin had lost a daughter and two wives – an immeasurable level of loss. Even amid his rejection of me and my innocent intentions, my heart wept for him. 

When a person loses a string of loved ones, in this case – three women – karma is likely at play. In this case, I believe the culprit may be a dark spirit seeking solace in the pain of others – or in those they imagine to be their adversary. While I cannot comment on the spirit of Benjamin’s and Sharon’s daughter, I can only imagine that the intensity of those relationships and the immense magnitude of the loss could easily transcend time and cause additional challenges and changes.

Somehow, I still feel for the man, unable to entirely shake my empathy for him.

Seeing Benjamin at an Amma event last week, he was petty, even enrolling his current girlfriend in checking out my divination system (The Shankara Oracle) with contempt and disgust. 

How strange and sad he holds so deeply to his own false presumption. His new female friend, I fear, will also encounter physical and health challenges. Given what he presented, it just seems likely to me.

Somehow, amidst all his pain, Benjamin missed something of his own ignorance, leaving me and most likely others in the wake.

And so it goes with significant loss. 

When a friend is loving, why not give them the benefit of the doubt? Why cast them aside and become petty? It’s an easy answer: grief does not often give space for self-reflection and a broader perspective. Until we release it all, grief is enrapturing and all-consuming. Over time, we might soften and see the negative nuances of our behavior – and yet, sometimes, we remain stuck in holes we dug ourselves. 

Why include anyone in your journey when they regularly judge or infringe upon you, whether they were at fault or not?

Indeed, it’s complicated. And no one is to blame.

Sometimes, challenging experiences teach you who is at your level, and they show you who can genuinely fathom how awesome you are. Traumatic events can awaken us to our value and who belongs in our lives. It comes down to self-esteem and awareness. 

Being open to knowing our value and then embodying it will make all that is not meant for us fall away.

Sometimes, it’s best to focus 100% on the supremely positive aspects of our lives. Amid our overwhelming challenges, grief, denial, or pain, we can better conjure a simple, manageable life – with the least amount of resistance.

In the most dramatic scenarios, it can be most prudent to assume the healing and bridges will be created in the other realms, amid another life, at another time, through another version of You.