Remembering Justin (August 2019)

Many of the teachers attending the 2019 conference had never met Justin so it was a wonderful idea to set aside time to tell stories and share remembrances. And for those who had spent time with Justin, we learned some new stories.

Stories help flush out a personality. We know a person from our interactions with them and what we might have heard from others, but that is often not everything and it is colored with each person’s perspective and interpretation. Stories can be about our personal interactions or our reactions or responses as a result of something they said or did.

Not long ago I attended a life-celebration for a dear friend and learned so much about them. This person was so much more multifaceted than I ever knew. I felt like a diamond in the rough to their princess cut.

We interpret the world around us through our own lenses that have been curved, shaped and polished by our experiences. So we may not all have the same perspective. Justin’s focus in life was helping others. T’ai Chi Chih is an obvious result of that desire.

For those who spent time around Justin, he was always teaching lessons with the goal of waking us up. He wanted his students/teachers of TCC to move forward on their spiritual path. His “lessons” were to show us where we were stuck, or not being honest with ourselves, or to point out our ego or endless shortcomings, and how to look beyond or inside or in another direction.

He often talked of generosity. He once asked if we could perform an act of generosity and not tell a single person, ever. I thought that should be easy. Who goes around bragging about what a wonderful thing they did for someone else? So I did something for someone and lo-and-behold I found myself several times having to snap my mouth shut, catching myself before speaking about it. It was truly a lesson noted, because over the years I have found myself talking (bragging) about something I have done and usually realize this after the fact. But there have been times I have caught myself before speaking and examined my motives.

At conference I told a story about my reaction to a time I thought I was going to be corrected by Justin in front of many other teachers. The part of the story I told wasn’t so much about Justin but about my reaction and recognizing my ego (only later, not in the throes of embarrassment) as it battled between the desire for his attention or invisibility. The part of the story I didn’t elaborate on was the reason why Justin gave corrections the way he did. He was often abrupt, very direct and not gentle. It may have seemed as if he didn’t care if he hurt someone’s feelings.

I remember a teacher accreditation course when someone was crying because Justin had corrected them. He was sitting next to me and leaned over and asked me, in all seriousness, “Why is that person crying?” I wanted to say, “Because you hurt their feelings.” But I probably mumbled, “I don’t know.” It’s not that he was callous and didn’t understand or care; he was pointing out that emotions have no place. He gave a correction and the expectation was to receive and work with it. Cut and dry. No room for emotions. Emotions are just our ego worrying about what other people think of us, or that we think we are not good enough or are wrong. He wanted us to realize what ego was, how it operated and how it holds us back. He wanted us to know who and what we are. We can’t do this if we are in denial or not honest with ourselves.

If it sounds like he was a harsh taskmaster without a heart, read these two writings from Spiritual Odyssey. The beauty of Justin’s words can bring tears of sweetness to the eyes.

“It has long been apparent to me that everything is vibrant with life. The ‘empty’ space vibrates with energy and intelligence, and, if one gazes at the silent hills and rocks, one will find they are singing the Glory of Creation.”

“Though I have been unable to detect a purpose to this life, I have enjoyed the quiet of the trees and the sunlight on the water. Should I be fated to return, I would like to work to still the hatred in people’s hearts.”

Justin created TCC to help people, not to build a TCC school or organization with himself at the head. In the early years of TCC some teachers would send him a tithe or portion of their income from teaching. He would send it back telling them all he wanted from them was to be a good teacher and pass on this valuable practice to others.

What I liked about Justin was that he was human. He wasn’t perfect and he didn’t want to be put on a pedestal. He wanted to be of service, to help those around him to “wake-up,” and through TCC bring joy, comfort, health, caring, happiness, wisdom, self-exploration, connection, and love to those who try it, allowing them to receive what serves them. Thank you, Justin, for the gift of your service to mankind.