I heard the last beat of her heart, my little dog. She was here, here, here. And then not. It seems impossible, the finality of that. And then she came back to me…
The ancient mystics knew the truth about death: crushing grief can lead us to healing, to alignment with what our souls already know. And then “we wake up laughing…”
Eight years ago I prayed to get out of this living hell so I could be with Mike again. Today, in the same Mike-free world, I'm prone to ending texts and emails with "I love this life!" We are here, our loved ones are Here, and it's all the same. There is nothing to fear. The heartbeat of Love is eternal.
This is not mine but it is so delicious that I'm posting it on this extravagantly beautiful spring morning. This is from Danielle LaPorte, a spiritual teacher and author I don't recall ever hearing of. Yet this January 5 post rose into my Facebook newsfeed from out of nowhere. Gifts. They're everywhere. And this reminder … Continue reading you. me. some. one. now.
“Instead of shooting through the front windshield to crush my skull against that house-sized hunk of metal, I crawled out of that car with only a burn on my neck from the seatbelt. I remember leaving Frank's Little Hut in Montrose as I'd done a dozen unbelted nights before. I remember pulling that seatbelt around me; doing it and wondering why at the same time. Guided. Always.”