Betty J. Kronsky died on February 2, 2015 at a gracious age of 83. She grew up in New Rochelle, New York. Betty took her undergraduate degree in English Literature at Vassar College, going on to graduate studies at the University of Wisconsin. Not caring for the cloistered world of academia, Betty changed course to pursue a career in psychotherapy so she could engage more with people. After receiving her Masters in Social Work from Yale University she set up practice in New York City, then moving to Santa Fe in 1986 continued her work.
Betty was an avid student of Milton Erickson MD and she had a deep understanding of the principles of Gestalt Therapy. Betty was proud of her work in both fields of study.
Buddhist thought and practice blossomed in Betty's life in 1973 when she first met Chogyam Trungpa Rinpoche. In later years, Betty wrote her spiritual memoir recounting the story of her encounters with her three great root Buddhist teachers, Chogyam Trungpa Rinpoche, Dudjom Rinpoche, and Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche. These relationships transformed her life. Her travels and studies in Buddhism provided her grand adventures and personal insight.
Betty's profound response to beauty led to her love of the arts, from classical music to opera to dance and literature, she admired them all. After retiring from private practice, Betty picked up the thread of her earlier interests, completing a Master of Arts degree in writing from Bennington College with an emphasis in poetry.
Betty was a painter, poet, flower arranger, and writer. One could not step into Betty's house without being filled with the sense of richness of her aesthetic eye.
Betty also kept up on world events and cared deeply about justice and personal responsibility.
Betty was a gracious host; she loved the company of her friends and family. Eclectic in her friendships, Betty's circle included young and old, famous and humble. Living much of her life in New York City, Betty made a small town sense of community out of all of her relationships.
Throughout her life, Betty reached out for what the world had to offer getting the good out of her time here. Betty's generosity of spirit and openness to life showed us how we might live a rich and conscious life, had we the spiritual courage she possessed.
Tributes
Leave a tributeThe Thursday morning before she died (which as I remember was a Monday) we had been up all night, her body was restless and uncomfortable. As the dawn hit the tree outside of her bedroom window, she stopped and saw how its light gleamed and shimmered on the tree. And she remarked: This is so beautiful, I wish I had spent more time seeing these things" And that morning she did "see" what is precious and simple and here in our lives everyday.
As I remember her and her courage (and the struggle) at the end of her life, I remember what is precious and what is still here for us, those still living, today.
May we feel what is simple yet exquisite and available to us today.
There was some Meshuggeneh at the end of her life and whatever disruptions they caused, I hope that balance is regained for all involved. Two years or so after Betty died, Bodhi her amazing cat, who I knew since he came to live with her as a sickly kitten, he thrived with her and finally, he came to live with me. With us- my husband and I- he had an amazing life till he died of old age. He was very precious to us as himself, and as one who was beloved by his "mom" Betty. I hope if consciousness remembers its specific lifetimes, I hope they are together in love and with all the clear nurturing presence of Life itself. I miss both of them.
Now cracks a noble heart. Good night sweet prince: And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest!
I repeat to Susan Jonas that I am still interested in reading Betty's biography. Are you willing to share it with me? Would appreciate that.
jimac4@verizon.net.
my dear betty,
thank you for all of it! you were always leading in the search for the meaningful no matter where it was, and you did this with with enthusiasm and a good sense of humor especially about yourself, and for me personally you were always interested and eager, regardless of what was happening in your life, to listen to what was on my mind. and this would have been tedious for any other person since i so did repeat myself. yet you always had something healing and appropriate to say and urged me to remember to be good to myself.
and i will most miss our special bond, since you, being 10 years older, were, my "mentor" even if that title made you a bit uncomfortable. i replied on you to tell me how it was for such a long (remember, you were playing a recorder on the lawn of Music Inn in the late 50s?) and i will try and remember. (it is just sometimes difficult to be on one's own)
thank you dear betty!
love,
stephanie
nyc
Betty knew me since before I was sentient. All these sixty-one years, she remained loyal and steadfast and interested – a willing witness to my life. She put me on her annual round. She accompanied me to the monks’ prayers in the Berkeley hills at 6 a.m. during my Catholic phase: “I’ve always loved the Lord’s Prayer – doesn’t it just say it all.”
In her own seeking, there was discipline and duty and hope. Joy came in smaller packages: a signature lipstick color, the blousy rose in the rain, a young boy’s shy laugh, the poet’s perfect line, Iago’s exquisite dance of vicious, the notes trilling just so. Grief she knew but didn’t allow herself to dwell in.
Mistress of moments, she knew how to pause. And listen. Our last visit was my first to her. Lunches and dinners and opera and my uneasy chatter.
“Let’s just be still together,” she said. So we sat on the outside chairs while the world grew dark and the birds’ twilight song was part of the pine-cedar scent. Her lavender scarf fluttered in the ancient breeze.
Oh, she was eager. And tried all her life for peace.
a singular walk, more of a skipping than a limp.
a heart and mind, both quick and keen and open.
a piano players hands, strong and delicate.
beautiful map of wrinkles and lifelines, an atlas of experience.
a joy of sharing beauty: books, art, nature.
intrepid traveler! such interest in people, places. a sponge of life.
constant presence, generous spirit, thoughtful, honest and true.
may your next journey be gentle, kind and interesting.
you will always help.
i love you betty kronsky, a true fairy godmother.
Leave a Tribute
The Thursday morning before she died (which as I remember was a Monday) we had been up all night, her body was restless and uncomfortable. As the dawn hit the tree outside of her bedroom window, she stopped and saw how its light gleamed and shimmered on the tree. And she remarked: This is so beautiful, I wish I had spent more time seeing these things" And that morning she did "see" what is precious and simple and here in our lives everyday.
As I remember her and her courage (and the struggle) at the end of her life, I remember what is precious and what is still here for us, those still living, today.
May we feel what is simple yet exquisite and available to us today.
There was some Meshuggeneh at the end of her life and whatever disruptions they caused, I hope that balance is regained for all involved. Two years or so after Betty died, Bodhi her amazing cat, who I knew since he came to live with her as a sickly kitten, he thrived with her and finally, he came to live with me. With us- my husband and I- he had an amazing life till he died of old age. He was very precious to us as himself, and as one who was beloved by his "mom" Betty. I hope if consciousness remembers its specific lifetimes, I hope they are together in love and with all the clear nurturing presence of Life itself. I miss both of them.
Betty Kronsky
Betty was family on my mother's side. She was always very sweet to me and most all, always, from the time I was a child, super supportive of my interests in music. She loved Jazz and we would often talk about some of our favorite musicians. Betty also would routinely give me very ecclectic musical instruments as gifts, some of which i still have in my possession today. She was always a very positive influence in my musical endevours, and now, I have been a professional musician for almost 30 years. I miss her and think of her fondly
Beth - you mention one of Betty's books. I knew she was writing an autobiography and she asked me to read over part of it and make suggestions, which I did. Do you have a copy of it - did she ever finish it? I thought Susan Jonas had a copy. But I don't know how to reach either of you. Could you, Beth, adn Susan, if you read this, please contact me at jimac4@verizon.net. I would so love to read the whole thing, or as far as she got. Many thanks, Jill
I love coming across Betty's distinctive script when reading one of her books. And finding notes to herself tucked as bookmarks, or reminders. She was such a scholar of life, language, and the human spirit. Here is a passage I found underlined in Savage Beauty, Nancy Milford's biography of Edna St. Vincent Millay (from her poem 'Renascence'):
I miss you Betty, and I am so grateful to you for so many things.