My wife steps up behind me and whispers:
“In a month, it’ll be a year since Muffin passed away.”
(Muffin, for those who don’t know, is… was… our pet Lhasa Apso.)
My eyes grow damp.
A stone settles in my belly.
And I feel a tightness within my chest.
My breath rasps harshly. And I feel like I’m choking.
None of it takes effort. Or time.
It just happens.
Like when you press on a switch, and the room floods bright.
Instantly.
At the same time, the Muffin-shaped hole in my universe grows bigger. And bigger. Then even bigger still.
It looms closer and closer. Until it envelops everything else. Sucking me right into it, deep inside.
It surrounds me; embraces me; engulfs me.
And just when I think I’m lost, sunk, buried… it suddenly warms me.
And comforts me.
Now I feel lighter. Happier. At peace.
At long last, I realize what Rumi meant.
“Goodbyes are only for those who love with their eyes. Because for those who love with their heart and soul, there is no such thing as separation.”
That must mean Muffin is right here with me. Within me.
We’re together. And always will be… forever.
Souls that once inhabited two bodies, now merged into just one.
It brings a wider realization.
One even more profound. And universal.
We’re all of us together.
One vast, shared consciousness.
Split physically, perhaps, across many distinct entities. Yet connected in our own special, intimate way.
That’s why my morning ritual has now changed.
Until a year ago, I’d awaken. Sit up in bed. And wait for Muffin to rush over. Do her little wriggle. Then plop her soft head onto my lap.
She’ll listen for my daily questions. How are you, Muffin? How was your night? Did you sleep well? Were you a good girl? Did you give anyone trouble?
Depending on how she feels in the moment, based on her mood and energy level, she’ll either grin up at me with her tongue lolling out one side of her mouth… or close her eyes and fall back asleep again.
Today, that ritual has been replaced by another. A new one shaped by the sixteen personal development guides I read in September 2022.
I wake up and fold my hands together in a short prayer of gratitude.
And declare I’m going to make the most of this day.
Then I shut my eyes. Think of little Muffin. Feel her presence.
And reaffirm her love.
Remind myself of our dual energies, now merged together into a force of nature.
My skin tingles. My blood races. My heart pounds harder.
Faster.
I’m excited. Ready to face a new day.
One that’s full of hope and promise. Replete with wonder and opportunity. A day to seize and shape to my will and dreams.
OUR will and dreams.
Because we’re all in this together.
You and me.
And Muffin, too.
Everyone.
Everything.
One glorious cosmic whole.
Call it Nature. Or even… Life.
🙏