Tuesday, June 15, 2010
What the Lake Had to Say
One of the greatest advantages (and there are so many) to buying our first car in nine years is complete access to my good friend, Lake Erie. On a whim, even, which is pretty out of the picture with bikes.
Marcy has (for some bizarre reason that I will never understand) decided to return to...ugh...jogging. Blech. (Smelling something bad face inserted here.)
I am teasing. Sorta. I don't get the whole running thing at all. Never have. But I am glad that she loves it and I am glad that my dancing is encouraging more physical activity on her part.
So on Sunday evening, after a day of rain and gray, the sun came out and Marcy heard the trails of our Peninsula calling to her feet, for which we had just purchased her new, very cool, very light, orange accented running shoes. I mean, those babies were aching to get out of their box. So we loaded up Seven (the car) and headed out.
I was not going to run, obviously, so my gear included a beach chair and a bag with book and pen and journal.
It was still breezy and a bit chilly by the water. The lifeguard was sweat shirted from top to bottom. The wind was making some excellent waves which, of course, was making excellent sound.
I love this sound. I love the sounds of the lake. They soothe me. No matter what is going on.
I put my chair very close to water's edge and sat with pen ready. Listening.
And as usual, Lake had a lot to say. Besides Marcy and all the cats (Fur and Sparkle variety), Lake is one of my greatest teachers.
This particular "class" was about to kick my arse.
Scottie Cat is sick. He is OLD. He has had a beautiful life, and Marcy and I are very good, I think, at helping cats to transition. It is difficult work, but I have always seen it as privileged work. This is Love.
My grief issues that I wrote about yesterday, my lack of trust in this life...it all comes down to one question:
How dare I use this beautiful cat's last moments or weeks or months to feed my dormant depression and anxiety issues?
How dare I lay this load on his sweet back?
How dare I say such a definitive NO to life when the passing of Jobie and Ernie have taught me all about saying YES?
Being sad, missing him after he is gone...these things are natural.
That is still all about me. It is his time. It is appropriate. It is right. It is natural. This, too, is Life.
He was never mine to begin with. I was sharing in a momentary manifestation of his Spirit and that Spirit will never be gone.
Lake is not an Easy Teacher. She tells it like it is, especially when it is difficult.
One wave after another crashing near my feet, the setting sun, the migrating birds...all of this reminds us of the cycles, the permanence of the impermanence, and the beauty and inherent intelligence of it all...if we can trust enough to walk around with open palms and open heart, letting land and letting fly free the gifts that grace us moment to moment, breath to breath, heartbeat to heartbeat.