By: Jim & Jamie Dutcher
I
had to force myself to come back to this page today.
The
journey through Grief continues. I was
curious to know how many days it’s been.
Twenty-one. I have stumbled,
fallen, and coerced myself to deliberately
reach for a higher feeling thought, just a small improvement, more
than twenty-one times. I consciously
work not to succumb to lower level emotional vibration. The pain of Rudy’s absence, once searing, has
lessened bit by bit, day by day. The disappearance of his life-force is a
pragmatic reality that now sits in a medium-sized white box with wonderful and
happy dog paws imprinted randomly over the surface. You’d expect the box to be
filled with doggie treats not Rudy’s ashes.
They arrived yesterday, hand-delivered by our compassionate and
extraordinary Vet, Ronit. She adored
Rudy and cried with us the day he died.
My
life is sustained by books. Real
books. Ancient books made of paper and
cardboard and binding. They are
everywhere in our bungalow. From the
time I was a little child, when feeling frightened, sad or lost, books were my
“safe-place.” I would find exactly the
right book and run outside to my beloved Tree Fort built high in the branches
of our huge Bay tree. Like a
transfusion, I could feel the energy of the wise tree vibrate through my body. I would breathe-deep of the unique and
delicious scent. I would kiss the bark
and thank my tree for its protection. Then, I would snuggle into my sleeping
bag, open the book and travel wherever it offered to take me. It felt
wonderful! I was on a Magic Carpet ride,
flying through the air. Time and Space
did not exist. Now, I realize it was my
first experience with Quantum Physics and the Law of Attraction.
The Little Engine That Could was my
favorite story for it made me believe anything was possible, “I think I
can. I think I can. I think I can.” The message filled every fiber of my being
with wonder, courage, strength and optimism.
“I think I can. I think I
can. I think I can.” Without exception, this mantra has served me
through every milestone and saved me from drowning when I found myself
furiously paddling upstream, against the raging currents of painful emotion.
Only
yesterday, I smiled at myself when I realized these words were streaming
through my mind as a coping mechanism, I
think I can find my way through missing Rudy. I think I can erase the horrible
images of his tumors and feeling profoundly inadequate as a person dedicated to
healing. I think I can focus on all the wonderful moments and memories Rudy
gave me. I think I can let him go with
love and light. I think I can deeply
love another dog that, I know, will come into our lives. I think I can survive the future death of all
my beloveds. “I think I can” is
in the process of becoming “I know I can.”
Then
it happened. SynchroDestiny took my hand.
Created and defined by renowned mind-body authority, Dr. Deepak
Chopra, SynchroDestiny describes an extraordinary conspiracy of
improbabilities in which seemingly unrelated circumstances and conditions weave
together to form an unforeseen event. SynchroDestiny explores the universal
patterns that shape our lives and expand our potentiality as it relates to
intention, consciousness, karma and coincidence.
A
respected colleague and friend, Jane Bay, describes it this way: “SynchroDestiny
has the ability to transform our lives once we understand what is happening,
enabling us to experience miracles and feelings of joy, and consciously
participate in our own evolution with a better understanding of our meaning and
purpose in life. The ultimate goal…is to
expand consciousness and open a doorway to enlightenment – a rebirthing or
awakening.”
How
does this apply to Grief? Here’s my
answer: I had forgotten about three
books I bought last fall. They have been
sitting on a shelf, crisp and new, unopened.
Herein lies the power of our subconscious minds and the magnetic forces
in our Universe – I absently, without conscious
intention, walked to this particular shelf.
Words streamed through my head, I
think I can. I know I can. I think I can. Oh, Rudy, I miss you so! But I know I can process this Grief. I know I can!
This
particular bookshelf is high on the wall and as I reached up, I knocked off one
book. It fell to the ground, bounced
once, and landed on the tiles. The
crash-landing impact caused it to open with pages facing the floor. I picked it up. And, I kid you not, the page read, “Example 32:
My Dog Died and I Feel Grief.”
Holy Bow-Wows! Talk about an
instantaneous shift in energy. It
actually took me a few seconds to process the profoundness of what just
happened. I was being offered the
opportunity to expand my potentiality as it relates to intention,
consciousness, karma and coincidence.
If
you scroll down to the next post, I share passages from Esther and Jerry Hicks
book, The Astonishing Power of Emotions
– Let Your Feelings Be your Guide in hopes it offers you some measure of
comfort and opens a doorway to understanding and processing the tumultuous
emotion we call Grief.
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