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.