Two weeks ago today I lost the 'love of my life', my sweet, little, faithful Brownie. He was not robbed of life...he was aging and developing attributes many of us will be given: diminished eyesight, deafness, arthritis, and finally a life-taking illness, cancer. But, how did Brownie live? I answer you unwaveringly....with uncalculated joy, presence, patience, attention, and love. These were only some of the qualities he incarnated, and now that he is gone, I so desire to continue his legacy, to 'witness' these qualities in my own life. I want them to be my banner, and time will show the extent of my success.
But for today, two weeks after I buried my sweet little Brownie in the woods he so loved to walk, run in, and explore... always with curiosity, presence and pleasure...I feel mostly grief and anger at being 'robbed' of my teacher and inspiration in life, and my anchor to Love. Though my mind shouts firmly that bodies are only illusory, temporary vehicles of Spirit, my small sense of self shakes her little fist angrily at the heavens through blinding tears..."why my little Brownie? why now?"
It is never a right moment. Despite much exploration of standard, 'inherited' cultural beliefs, and work to develop a paradigm that supports and heals, despite years of psychosynthesis study and practice, therapy, yoga, prayer and meditation practices, the immense feelings of grief, sadness and injustice are there. No matter how true it may be that we are all Spirit, sustained and inspired by the Light or lifeforce-"prana" (as said in Sanskrit), a part of us remains tied (sometimes anchored) to the world of form and illusion (as both Buddhist teachings and A Course in Miracles refer to as this world).
The lessons are hard, ripping, and inevitable. Yet, returning to the question, "how do we live?" brings a fleeting smile to my face amidst the tears and heart-breaking pain. I see Brownie tearing madly around at the beach in a circle of great joy and glee, or frantically digging a hole in his sandbox, perhaps for the sheer joy of feeling the soft sand... I see him sitting patiently and attentively waiting for his supper when it was long overdue and late..I see him look at me silently for no apparent reason...and I know how blessed and privileged I have been.
I have experienced and known love in my life, in a package that an American Quaker explains I "could relate to, understand" and receive. How happy I am that I repeatedly told him over the years how much I loved him.
