The twelve-pointed star

In her new memoir "The Watch," Paula Sager weaves love, loss, and moving beyond the bounds of time

Fractal image generated by the Electric Sheep project from sheep 10390. Courtesy Wikimedia Commons, licensed by Creative Commons.

My dear friend Monica’s husband Jacob was on life support in a California hospital. We’d known each other forever; I met Monica in high school and she and Jacob had been together more than 20 years. The three of us had hiked together to Death Valley. When Jacob flew to New England on business, he called me to have lunch. Jacob was warm, charming, sometimes boyish. He had a capacious, adventurous mind. He cherished Monica and loved being her husband.

The days of Jacob’s life dwindled, and as I thought of my friends across the country constantly. I met with my movement partner to practice in the studio.

I stepped onto the floor and tried to empty my mind. Closing my eyes, I let my body lead me. Immediately, I saw Jacob, unconscious in his hospital bed. I crossed to him and placed my hands on his temples to give him Reiki. We were both wide open: his vulnerability went straight into my fingertips and radiated through me.

Sacred events such as death (or birth) can deliver us into timelessness But integrating that wide open connection into continued presence – now, there’s the trick.

“How do you experience the enigma of relationship? Of life? Of death?”

Paula Sager poses those questions toward the end of her new memoir, “The Watch: Time to Witness the Beauty of it All,” coming in February from Wildhouse Publishing. “What supports you in being present? What are your questions?”