Suchness

Let the beauty of what you love be what you do.

Rumi - Poet




We come into this world
For only a flash.
Encounter family, first
At the beginning of our path.

Then, friends we make
Along the way,
Some grow closer
With each passing day.

The pets who come into our lives
Stay such a short time
Yet ever by our sides.

Do what you love
Each and every day,
For autumn is upon us
As we make our way.

Be Yourself

Have you ever wondered who you really are?  Do you have different faces or voices with other people or situations?  Do you think that's normal?  Is it, for you?




Have you ever been with someone who brings out the best in you?  Someone with whom you feel totally yourself and at ease?  What does that feel like?  When is it?  With whom? 

Do you feel better amongst animals than people?  Why might that be?  Is it about being criticized and judged?  Or accepted for who you truly are, warts and all, anytime, all the time?  No matter what?  Have you ever thought about these things?  What do you tell yourself?  When is life happy?  When is it sad?  When do you feel upset or mad?  Does your dog care?  Does your cat even look up? 

If life is short (and it is!) then do you want to wear masks or be yourself?  All the time?  Does it feel more comfortable to let your hair down and not be judged?  Is love and acceptance a two-way street?  Do you have to give love to get love?  Does it matter?  What does?

Are our pets our closest companions and truest loves?

The Best Gift

Am reading a very good book called, A Hidden Wholeness - The Journey Toward an Undivided Life by Parker J. Palmer.  He says:

"All of us arrive on earth with souls in perfect form.  But from the moment of birth onward, the soul or true self is assailed by deforming forces from without & within:  by racism, sexism, economic injustice, and other social cancers; by jealousy, resentment, self-doubt, fear, and other demons of the inner life."

That got my attention.  Then he goes on to say:

"The powers and principalities would hold less sway over our lives if we refused to collaborate with them.  But refusal is risky, so we deny our own truth, take up lives of 'self-impersonation,' and betray our identities.  And yet the soul persistently calls us back to our birthright form, back to the lives that are grounded, connected & whole."

These thoughts resonated with me, because whenever I was with Suzy, I felt totally myself, authentic, whole and very happy.  I feel similarly with my kits, too.  Animals have a way of grounding us.  They're used in therapy, prisons, hospitals and retirement homes.  They uplift our spirits and make us smile.  They are loving, life-affirming and enhance longevity and inner happiness.

Suzy did all that for me and more.  Even her memory enhances my life, now.  The feelings that I still keep close to my heart because of her radiant presence sustain and inspire me to go on.  Thank you, my love.

When I'm With You

There are two kinds of intelligence:
one acquired, as a child in school memorizes facts and concepts from books and from what the teacher says, collecting information from the traditional sciences as well as from the new sciences.


With such intelligence you rise in the world.
You get ranked ahead or behind others
in regard to your competence in retaining
information. You stroll with this intelligence
in and out of fields of knowledge, getting always
more marks on your preserving tablets.


There is another kind of tablet, one
already completed and preserved inside you.
A spring overflowing its springbox. A freshness
in the center of the chest. This other intelligence
does not turn yellow or stagnate. It's fluid,
and it doesn't move from outside to inside
through conduits of plumbing-learning.


This second knowing is a fountainhead
from within you, moving out.

Rumi - Poet, Philosopher

Seasons of Reasons

Today I had lunch with my sister, from Philadelphia, and my 91 year old Mom. We went to a nice seafood restaurant & enjoyed a delicious meal.  Mom was her usual skeptical self.  Like a child on the first day of kindergarten, new sights and sounds may overwhelm.  As time goes by, though, all becomes more familiar and, hopefully, calm is restored in the midst of the mind's storm. 

So much that we fear or dread is more a mind-game than anything else.  Yet it sure feels real at the time.  The unfamiliar is a demon we don't care to know at least for most little kids and old folks.  So true for Mom.  But after a basket of fresh hot rolls were brought to the table and our salads served, Mom started to calm down and relax.  We enjoyed a delicious lunch and chatted amicably.

Until the ride home.  Once in the car, Mom piped up with something my sister and I shuddered to hear, as she said, "Yeah, time is closing in on me."  Out of the blue. Just like that.  My sister retorted, "Mom, I know, it's sad. But, that's life.  For all of us."  Pause.  Heavy heart.  Then Mom said, "Well, sometimes you welcome the end.  Look at my quality of life.  I can't walk, can't hear, can't see very well.  Sometimes death is welcome, because then I'll finally be at peace."

Such conversation at 3:00 on a sunny autumn afternoon was not what I wanted to hear.  Yet, it sounded all too familiar to me, and I quietly said to my sister, I know exactly what Mom means, as that's how it was for Suzy at the end.  "The end" being the past year and "the even worse end" being the last 6 weeks of her life.

Then there was "the tail end" when she stopped eating 5 days before she died and stopped drinking 2 days prior, although I'd tried, with every ounce of energy, to get her to drink and even scooped little mouthfuls of water into her mouth with my cupped, and hopeful, hands.  But, it was not to be.  On the last day of her life, the vet then, I, felt her gums.  Bone dry.  Like Mom, her quality of life had become worse than her quest for living. So she surrendered to peace.

In the end, so shall we all.

Sunday - A Day of Rest

It is Sunday.  A day of rest.
Time to put aside the tears
And let my weary soul rest.


When I think of happiness
I imagine bright blooms
Of all colors, warm & true.

And so my darling Suzy,
This precious day
Is dedicated all to YOU!


(And to our fellow readers   along the journey!)

                                            

Be Happy, Even Though I am Gone

Grieve not, nor speak of me with tears, but laugh and talk of me as if I were beside you... I loved you so... twas heaven here with you.

—Isla Paschal Richardson

There's an online site that I love written by a British lady called Pea Horsley.  She's an "animal communicator" and sends me quarterly newsletters about her workshops, with animals, all over England.  I'd love to go to one.  Her website is: http://www.animalthoughts.com/  Well worth a look!

Here's what she wrote about death and dying:

Saying goodbye to animals who we've shared our time with, animals who are part of our family, part of our heart; is one of the hardest things we have to do. It can feel like a part of ourselves is being ripped out. Many people find losing an animal who they love much harder than losing a member of their own family. Why is this? Because animals give unconditional love. They don't care about the state of our hair or the state of our bank balance. They only care that we spend loving time with them. Fun time. Gentle time. Quiet time. Animals are the keys to the soul; they are capable of removing layers of pain and surrounding us in blankets of comfort. Animals keep us going. They keep our hearts open.


Pea goes on to say that our pets will "let us know" when it is time to go and how they wish to go---at home or assisted (euthanized.)  I tried to let Suzy go at home.  Prayed she would, in fact.  But, she just hung in there as did I.  We both didn't want to say goodbye!  I waited as long as I could before she stopped eating and drinking.  There was nothing else I could do.

When I took her to the vet's he said to me, "your hands are tied" meaning, there was nothing else I could do for Suzy.  My heart fell.  I crouched down on the floor and held and kissed Suzy rapturously.  I knew that would be our final goodbye.  She knew, too. 

Pea says our pets will communicate with us when it's time to go.  Suzy did, and I knew, then and there, that it was time.  She stared at me as I backed out of the room.  I couldn't bear to stay when the moment of passing happened.  I felt she understood and gave me silent permission to leave.  But her eyes locked with mine as I slowly stepped back and out of the exam door.  A moment I shall, sadly, never forget.