Friday, October 9, 2009

A Day of Healing

I am feeling strange in my body today. My head is foggy, and full of energy. My heart aches more than I have ever felt before. I feel completely ungrounded, sometimes lightheaded. Given the last couple of days of my life, this is no great surprise. I feel like my body is being rearranged to hold this great sorrow, alongside so much deep love. And I am grateful that tomorrow afternoon will include acupuncture, to help shift me back into a place of balance.

Thursday afternoon, my friend Sarah came over, and we spent some time clearing the house energetically with sage and sweetgrass and palo santo. It was so smoky at times that it was hard to breathe. As we walked around, from room to room, I spoke to the spirit of my little kitty, telling him that it was okay to leave energetically, that he could move on into greater adventures in the universe. I asked that the heavy energy of sorrow, trauma, pain, suffering, fear, and all the rest be lifted from the house. We opened the windows fully, and asked the energies that needed to leave to go through the windows, through the water (faucet, turned on), and through the Earth beneath us. I offered gratitude to my little buddy for all our beautiful years together, and told him that just because he had been in our house for the last almost eight years didn't mean that he had to linger. I told him that I let him go completely, not from my heart, but from my house, my life, this physical realm. And I told him that when the spirits/angels/guides/whoever are ready to take him on to whatever is next for him, that he should absolutely go with them.

We cleared all the places where he had been lying and suffering - the nook in the living room by the bookshelf, the futon, the music room by the dresser, the hallway, beneath the chair in the meditation room, the shower, and mostly the green bathroom. We saved the green bathroom for last, since that was where he passed. Sarah told me that she felt intuitively that I needed to clear that room alone, and we waited to do that room last. She stood outside as I spoke to the spirit of my sweet little one, and I faced her. As I spoke some of the above things to Familiar kitty, I felt something poke me in my right leg, below the knee, with enough strength to cause my knee to buckle a bit. It surprised me, more than scared me, and i realized that it was my kitty asking me to turn and speak to him directly. I sensed that his presence was right there with me, standing in the place where he passed. So, I turned, and continued to speak to him, to offer him my love and gratitude, asking for forgiveness for anything that I was feeling guilty about, and encouraging him to go on to his next life.

I also asked that if he did choose to continue to visit me, or to stay around, that I needed some time. I need some time to mourn him, to grieve this loss of him in a physical body that I can touch and see, that I can interact with in the only way that I know. I told him that that was too much for me, that it would make my grief even harder, and that it would probably creep me out for now. I asked that he give me some time before visiting me again - not because I don't still love him, because I do, completely! But because I need to get used to living without him there in my house every day, always nearby, always getting into something, always crying out, letting his presence be known. I think that there will be a time in the future where it would be deeply moving to know that he is nearby, that he is still my little companion, if only in spirit. But not yet.

When I came home from class last night, the energy in the house was so much lighter. It feels empty. So empty. My little Familiar kitty would always be right there - on the stove, on the kitchen counter, on the table, on the coffee table, by the front door, on the stereo cabinet, in the music room...and always moving, moving, moving. He kept the energy of my house stirred. And now that has shifted. I keep expecting to see him. I know his rhythm in my life. But now, after the clearing, that has shifted. It is quiet. It is still. Friday kitty doesn't move around a whole lot. It feels empty. But it feels clear. The heavy energy of trauma and suffering has lifted. I am grateful. I need to be comfortable in my own home, and I am so glad that he could hear my needs and honor them. I am also grateful for whatever beings/spirits/guides that were there, for them taking him onward into the universe.

What an honor and blessing it has been to share our lives together for these thirteen years. My heart was opened by him in those sweet first months together. And as he died, my heart was opened and stretched beyond anything I've ever felt before. I will write more specifically about his passing very soon. But it was still too soon today.

I decided that today I needed to take care of some simple, practical things. And that I also needed to connect to Mother Earth to begin my process of healing. So, I decided to go to Larriland Farm to pick apples. It was such a hot day! The sky was blue, and I was sweating as I picked Jonagold, Cameo, Braeburn, and Fuji apples. And then, I went on to harvest my own broccoli - yum! At one point, I walked past some grass that was super fine and soft, and I followed my heart's desire to recline in the grass in the sun, to feel the Earth holding me. She is holding me as I grieve. She is holding me as I stay open, allowing my sorrow to move me, to flow through. She gives me strength to not close myself to the transformative power of love, a power that clearly flows far beyond life and death in the physical realm. Before I left the farm, I also bought some fresh apple cider, and some little pumpkins and gourd - and I put one of each of those on Familiar kitty's sweet little grave.

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