Grief's invitation

I found myself missing my boy Mister this morning. Longing for his presence, his physical presence - his goofy, joyful, unbounded way to being.

And so I did I what I have done for years. I wrote.

So Mister, these words are for you, for the gift of inviting my teacher Grief back. For your lessons that continue beyond your physical presence; for the teachings and support that reach back into places where more healing is asking for my attention; for the invitation to swirl and unravel so I may transform.

Grief's invitation

Grief unravels you
Creates new wounds
He rips the scabs off of old wounds

Grief is a shape shifter.
He is everywhere.
He becomes the first snowfall
The sound of lapping water.
The dog bowl, left on the counter, waiting to be filled.
He becomes the one lonely pair of shoes that finds its way into the backyard.
He becomes all of everything and everyone you have lost - longed for.
He becomes the 4 year old aching for her Papa; the teenager reaching for alcohol to numb the pain; the emerging adult looking, desperately. to fill the void she does not even know exist.

Grief becomes memories that make you smile, and rip your heart, in the exact same moment.

He becomes all that is, was and is yet to become.

Grief unravels you.
Grief exposes you.
Grief challenges you – pushes you to the edge of all that you know and into the space of who you are yet to become.

He invites you.
He swallows you. 
He asks of you what you think you do not have.

Grief creates a hole in your heart
The size of a crater.

You stand at the edge of what was ‘normal’; of what is now trembling ground; at the edge of unknowing, questions, uncertainty.

Grief reaches his hand out.
“Dance with me”, he says.

There is glows that surrounds him.
There is a glow from deep inside him.
There is a glow extending out and into me.

“Swirl
      ...  Surrender
         ....  Unravel"

And so I stand at the edge ...

I stand, an observer of the intersection of life's complexities, multiplicities, mysteries.

One hand over my heart. One hand extended.

I look Grief in the eye. 

"I accept"

I jump. 
I surrender.
I fall into my wounds, old and new.

I unravel.

Thank you Grief (and Mister and Papa and Ahnung and Piper and Shen and Shadow and Splat), and so many more who have crossed over) for the invitation to unravel and to face into that which scares me; to experience vitality and aliveness in my deepest sorrow and invigorating joy; to surrender and rest in the mystery and miracles of life and death.

Safe travels sweet Mister ... We celebrate You!

Yesterday, November 6th, 2017 my partner and I held our beloved Mister as his spirit was set free. I want to share and write more; however, today, I am unable to do so. Today, I simply want to be with Mister in this new way. I feel his presence so strongly ... I feel his joy, his mischief, his zest for life ... so many stories. Today, a part of my heart feels joy because I feel him inside of me; the other part, feels this void and emptiness and deep sadness because I miss him. I share some photos.

We celebrate you Mister. We honor you. We love you.

It's a roller coaster ride, this final walk!

From flickr: Photo by George Bryan

Last night as I went to sleep I reflected on the day, on how Mister has been doing as we walk this Final Walk. Somehow I have been imagining a peaceful final walk ... open fields, breathtaking landscapes ... rainbows interspersed with a glowing sunrise over the horizon. Yesterday as I laid in bed watching Mister sleep I reflected on the day .... how he was doing great most of the day: even putting some pressure on his front paw; snarfing his food down; wagging his tail; looking at me with those sweet eyes ...and then in the evening for about an hour things shifted. He didn't even attempt to follow me downstairs when I went to take a shower. When I came back up he was in the exact same position on the dog bed in the office. His eyes did not have the sparkle in them and when I tried to encourage him to move a little so I could help him up, he didn't budge. He looked at me with eyes that said I can't.

My heart got heavy. My heart hurt to see my boy in pain. My heart began to prepare itself .... then I got a call i had to take to help a resident of a tribal community I am working with here in Minneapolis. Her cat was very sick and i was exploring options for her so she could get care for her cat. While I was on the phone with her, Mister got up, came up to me, tail wagging like crazy .. then he went into the kitchen and grabbed the hand towel off the stove. He was gleefully carrying the towel around like he had struck gold, or found a bag of dog food stashed in a closet! When I got off the phone I tried to get Mister to give me the towel. Umm, no such luck he was giving up his prize item!! :) He thought it was time to play tug! So instead, we played tugged! In an instant, my heart moved from this heaviness to an incredible lightness. The space around me went from darkness to light. And the Joy I could feel from Mister moved right into my being ... there may be cancer cells in his body, but boy, he is going to make them dance in Mister style for as long as he is able!!

I will continue to hold in my heart the image of a peaceful, final walk ... it helps me. It grounds me and keeps my heart open for this inevitable transition from physical to spiritual. But truth is, this final walk is not peaceful. This final walk is more like a rollercoaster ride; like climbing a mountain then free falling; like surfing and riding the waves then getting sucked under the water and feeling water in your lungs as you struggle to breathe .. This final walk with Mister is going to be a ride, not a walk. This Final Ride is going to be filled with lots of bumps and pot holes and Mister is going to take me for the ride of my life .... sweet boy, I am ready. I will free fall with you as many times as you need me to, and I will get back up ... this is your ride sweet boy. You get to lead. You get to be the Pilot.

Mister - Winter 2011

For you Mister, we take this Final Ride together ... We ride the waves in grand Mister style until you tell me Stop!! Or I take over briefly as your co-pilot. This is your show Mister, your grand finale!

This morning, I am grateful the twinkle is back in your eyes. I am grateful to have you keep me company in morning meditation and writing. And I am ready for whatever ride you want us to go on today!!

Mister (and Ishka) this morning

Mister - dog park 2011