Category: Wanderlust

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Beauty Pain: A Gift

Beauty Pain: Waking up to the knowledge that life is both beautiful and fragile. It’s seeing the hate and fear, but realizing there is even greater love. It’s the awe and the tears encompassed in the breaths, the limited breaths that mark our beginning and our end, while watching a golden-pink sunset. It’s what you feel both in watching a new life enter the world and a life surrender to death. It’s the lifespan of a dog. It’s the bittersweet feeling of a holiday party full of loved ones- full of love-comes to an end. Its the overwhelming gratitude when a once met friend pays me 8x the amount my book is worth. It’s my sobs seeing god in everyone and everything, even when others do not, and the most innocent being killed. It’s forgotten love. It is the acknowledgement of feeling. It is the acceptance of being human.

So many of us spend so much time rushing and worrying that we miss the beauty of what surrounds us, be it the people, animals, or nature, only to later realize that our time on Mother Earth is limited…which makes life all the more beautiful.

It’s hard to use words to define the term “beauty pain.” Perhaps I described it better in past posts that more so provoked the feeling rather than tried to define it:

Still, I think my older sister said it best in her journal, the few words she wrote in her dying year: “Life is beautiful…even when it’s not.”

Each time I come back to this term, I come to understand what it means to be alive a little more. I come to more deeply know myself.

“What if your ability to feel pain is the most beautiful thing about you?” I scribbled in my journal.

What if?

What if my biggest weakness is actually by biggest strength… my capacity to love?
It is in my heightened senses, the depth of my emotions, that makes me so human and so alive. And yet, I feel and have felt so deeply that I have tried to numb my pain and attempted to reject my humanness, claiming my want to leave this planet, with doG (Pacer) always grounding me back.

Maybe it’s because I grew up in the midwest to baby boomer parents, loving but mostly unemotional (outwardly), that I learned to deny pain, thereby rejecting myself. Showing emotions wasn’t really accepted in my family. My mom got laughed at (with me as one of the perpetrators) for crying during a movie. No one was there to tell me that my depth was my power.

Eventually, I learned to carry and hide so much that I learned to fear it, to fear my pain.
Honestly, I thought it might kill me if I let myself feel it all.

Yet, maybe…

Maybe I don’t have to fear pain, because pain is just love. Maybe it’s sometimes wrapped in a cloak of fear or tinged with sadness, but it is still love. And maybe my pain, my love, is my gift to the world, because my pain carries my light. In fact, pain is a big part of the reason I chose to practice psychotherapy (what I know call “psychosoul therapy). I didn’t want others to have to feel what I felt. Now I know they both do and they don’t… They just have to accept their pain, because their pain is love and shines a light on “wrongness”, the wrongdoings created from darkness. The worst part of pain is actually resisting feeling it.

(However, I can lessen my pain. Here I realize I’ve used the word “pain” in different ways in my blog – thank you for giving me the space and grace to process and shift. Sometimes, what I mean is really “distress” or “suffering”. What has helped me a great deal is learning to check in with myself when my emotions feel heavy and then bring awareness to the thought I’m thinking.  Usually, my thought is far, far away from love. Additionally, I’ve learned to “tap in, tap out”, a great skill for any empath. It’s an amazing gift to tap into someone else’s shoes, but it is neither helpful for the empath or the other person to get stuck in the other person’s energy field. Switching to compassion helps me help others.)

It is my pain that makes me mortal and it has been my fear of pain, my resistance to it, that has kept me from Love. It is Love that makes me immortal. When I resist pain, I resist both my humanity and my divinity. When I accept my pain, when I accept my beauty pain, I accept my humanity and my divinity.

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The Choice

In all the best movies about light and dark, be it Lord of the Rings, Star Wars, or Harry Potter, the protagonist always asks themselves the question: What if I am just like them?

What if I am just like Darth Vader? What if Im just like Lord Voldemort? What if Im just like Sauron?

The wise teacher usually replies with something like: Well, it’s your choice.

Do you want to believe in fear? Or do you want to believe in love?
Which is the same thing as saying, do you want to give your energy to the darkness?
Or do you want to give your energy to love?

Most of us, at some level, have already made that choice. We’ve chosen to, to the best of our conscious ability, to be good friends, good neighbors, good partners, and good community members. Some of us have taken another step and chosen to be good to the earth and all the animals that inhabit earth. Yet most of us have forgotten to look at how we treat ourselves.

In order to look at that piece, I believe the better question is: What if they, the villains, are just like me?

What if Darth Vader is actually just like me? What if he simply just chose to believe in fear, and in doing so, shut down to love? What if he killed his own innocence before trying kill everyone else’s? Because…he got so scared that he thought he had to dominate the planet in order to feel powerful, because he had actually lost his own true power when he left his innocence and creativity spirit behind?

In the end, we don’t have to fight the darkness. We just have to make a choice. Darkness is just forgetfulness, which invites in fear and we create these crazy stories in our head of not being enough and unworthy of love. When we shine the light of love and truth on darkness, when we choose to love ourselves even when we’ve made a mistake- a choice that wasn’t in alignment with love, darkness can’t survive. Darkness was never real in the first place, just made up. Instead, we can put our own light energy into the belief, the deep knowing, that we are all enough and all deserving of the highest form of love. 

The choice is yours: Will you believe in your own light?

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Hidden

Just because there are clouds hanging low from the sky doesn’t mean the mountains (or sun) aren’t still there.

Just because we can’t see our emotions doesn’t mean we are not experiencing them, or that there isn’t peace underneath.

Just because we can’t see energy doesn’t mean it’s not the force that keeps all physical things, including our bodies, in motion.

Just because it gets dark doesn’t mean the light isn’t on.

Just because there is fear doesn’t mean there isn’t even greater love.

Just because there is pain doesn’t mean that there isn’t healing underneath.

We can accept, love, and validate what presents itself, while also knowing the truth of what is currently hidden.

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What Survives

If we can still love those who left us, who broke our hearts, who moved away, and who passed on, does that not prove love’s infinite existence?

The greatest act of love I have ever witnessed is watching my parents saying goodbye to their eldest daughter. My older sister had spent a long two years fighting cancer, and when it came to the point where she was clearly closer to Somewhere Else than here on earth as well as looking more peaceful than she had in weeks, they didn’t say, “You’re my daughter. You are supposed to outlive me. You have to keep fighting, because I need you.” (Let me be clear, I do not judge anyone who has said that to a loved one on their “deathbed”.) No. Instead they said. ”We love you. We don’t want you to be in pain. You don’t have to hold on anymore. You can go.” And while my sister did hang out until after my dad’s birthday (I know that was her choice) and I believe my parents, as well as my twin sister and I, releasing our attachment to her physical presence, is why she was able to pass peacefully in her sleep a night later. Letting go was an act of unconditional love.

When she died, all that was left was love.

Personally, my greatest fear (I don’t think I’ve ever admitted this before), is losing my* dog. (Well, her and my twin sister.) To be honest, I’ve never been sure I could survive it. And there is something inherently beautiful and almost innocent** in that, that my greatest fear is in losing unconditional love. Specifically, the embodied presence of unconditional love that has been almost constantly by my side for over a decade now. While I still hold onto the hope of her living to 20 (not unheard of for an Aussie), I can only free both me and her by accepting that in most cases, a dog’s lifetime is significantly shorter than their humans. (Maybe this is because dog’s are already so close to God/Love and as furry angels, are more helpers to humans wanting to evolve.) And, even though Pacer is still happy to have some big adventures with me in the mountains, I also have to admit that she prefers snuggle time and getting doted on by her aunt and uncle even more. I’m so grateful, too, because she already physically thrives beyond other pups. So, when the time comes the most loving thing I can do for Pacer is let her go back Home. Of course, if she is ever sick, I’lI do anything I can to help her heal. But I don’t want her to have to stick around because I need her and I’m lost without her. Because that wouldn’t be love on my part, that would be fear. 

*Again, this word “my” is part of the problem…the possession of another being that is also not actually separate from us. 
**Innocence predates fear. It is love without fear. My feeling comes from more of a child who recently lost her innocence.

Could I…will I…be able to survive that? Love will always survive it.

In truth, I know energy doesn’t die… especially an energy like Pacer’s (this is the first law of energy). I know that part of Pacer’s purpose in coming to earth was to remind me of the love that always surrounds me and that is within me. I’m usually just too blind, too unwilling, to see it. I also absolutely know she will always be with me. I truly believe we’ve always been together in some way.  It’s the fear and lie of absence that always gets me. That and the amount of pain I know my body is capable of feeling. Really, I’m not sure how the skin around my 5’4 frame has survived the amount of pain I’ve held on to in the past. Yet I know I can hold more love then I have yet tested, because of all the times I’ve allowed pain to break me open. All I can really do right now is keep seeing the fear and loving it, not away, but anyway… that and snuggling with Pacer.

Love is the only force that can survive death. In death, only love will remain. 

*Note: Because we are human, it is essential that we love ourselves when in pain. In doing that, we can also realize that pain is an occurrence that happens when we feel separated (by our minds) from Love.

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More Poems on Love & Dogs

I love my dog so much, it hurts.

And this is my new hope for 2024:
To love each day, so much, that it hurts.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Love So Much

I love my* dog so much, it hurts.
Leaving her for a grocery trip, I feel the pang of absence.

I love some people so much, it hurts.
Sometimes, my gratitude for connection comes out in tears.

I have loved some people so much, it hurts,
especially when they died or left me.

I have loved the Earth, the mountains, the rivers, the animals,
the Sky, the birds, the sun, and the moon so much, it hurts. 
I don’t ever want to leave.

Rarely have I ever loved myself this much, so much, that it hurts.

Usually, it hurts because I don’t love myself at all.

I wonder what this means,
that I can love a dog, another being, the mountains, so much that it hurts,
but it also hurts that I can’t love myself the same.

If I loved myself like my dog,
it would mean I could be weird and make any wrong,
and I would still love me.

If I loved myself like I loved my dad, my sister, my mom,
it would mean I didn’t care what I did,
I would just want me to be happy.

If I loved myself like my sister who passed,
it would mean I would love myself through death.

If I loved myself like the lover who left,
it would mean I would love myself,
even after breaking my own heart.

If I loved myself like the mountains, the rivers, the sun, the moon, and the stars,
it would mean I found both expanse and home, everywhere I go.
I would never have to leave.

I would love myself so much it hurts,
and turn around and love again,
realizing love is limitless,
that I have only mistaken pain for love,
another for myself,
life for death,
and see that it is only Love that remains.

*It always feels a little bit wrong to use the word “my” with a dog, like we can own such precious, loving energy. Really, I prefer the Hawaiian phrase “animal kahu”, meaning I am the guardian and protector of these enlightened beings.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Remember

I love Pacer so much I could snuggle with her for hours.
Wouldn’t it be great to live life this way, to snuggle with Love for hours?

Yet I rush through both, snuggles and life.

Why?

Have I forgotten all that matters?

Actually, I think that is precisely it.

Remember.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Love as a Phoenix

Have you ever loved someone so much that you would die for them?

I have done this for Pacer.

Not physically, of course.

Instead, I threw my fears, my ego, into the flames.
It was a slow, painful death.

She never asked me to do this.
In all my destruction and false identities, she would have kept loving me.
Even if I hurt her, as I did and almost did… she never took an ounce of love away.

You see, I could not give her the conditional love I offered myself.

I could only love her, unconditional love in physical form, back with unconditional love.

So out went the conditions of my ego-
And truly, I almost died.

She still loved me, even when I had no honor to my name. 

In fact, I felt shame.

For not being enough. I felt unworthy of love.
Still, she loved me all the same.

I tried to figure this out,
to sort through all the pain,
to find a reason why,
why was I still worth loving?

Of course, dogs don’t speak in words.
Dogs only speak the language of love and light. 
I received a snout sighing on my lap,
and felt message that said,
“My Love, you have always been worth loving,
anything else was a lie,
I am the only truth.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Expand

Love so much, that it hurts,
Let it hurt so much that you break open.
And find your freedom.

Understand that you had to break.
That fear was just a shell.
The love inside your heart was always beyond it too. 

In breaking, you expand. 


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Can You Love the Unlovable?

(I originally wrote this for my psych-soul counseling Insta page @wanderlustcounseling, but thought it was worth sharing here too.)

Can you love the unlovable?

Can you love the innocent, vulnerable, emotional, and soft part of you that doesn’t want to do hard things, that just wants to feel safe and loved? Can you love your inner child?

Can you love the part of you that oppresses your creativity and joy?  Your inner critic, you mean coach, your Judgy McJuderson. Can you love your abuser?

For some of us, it will be harder to love the inner child, because we have deemed her weak.  Or rather, the inner abuser has deemed her weak. We’ve learned that it’s better to be strong and tough in a “hard knock life” kind of world.  But is it?  Or is that the world we created from beliefs and stories of fear handed down to us, that creates comparison, hate, and war.  That is the belief of the inner abuser (yes, I am using this word intentionally). The inner abuser lives… feeds off of fear, believing the world is not safe and that he’s gotta look out for himself.  She doesnt just protect, she is protected…but not from anything bad, from everything good.  That part of us that shames us, that’s literally tried to obliterate the inner child inside of us…he’s just scared. He hides behind his defenses. And yea, she’s done some things he’s not proud of.  Can you forgive him? Knowing that he’s only abused, harmed, and killed out of fear? Can you see the scared child underneath the armor? The part of you that just wants to know he’s still loveable.  Can you love the unlovable?

*Did you know that Hitler actually wanted to be an artist. Something churns in my stomach when I read his biography: https://www.history.com/news/adolf-hitler-artist-paintings-vienna

**I used he/her for simplicity’s sake, partially having to do with energies, but please use the pronouns you see fit.  

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You Are Enough

I originally wrote this for my cousin after I bought her a ring for Xmas that said “you are enough” and she asked me what it meant. As I was writing it (second half in comments), I felt part of my inner 7th grader healing too, so I thought it was worth sharing. (“Coincidentally, my Mom asked me to go through a box of my old stuff and I found these two pics of me in 7th grade.)

My Love,

You are enough.

No matter what you do, say ,wear, or weigh,
you will always be enough.

You are beautiful, magical, perfect, and whole,
exactly as you are. 

You are always deserving of the highest Love. 

When you make a mistake,
you are enough.

When you fail, 
you are enough.

When you shoot your shot and miss,
you are enough.

When you get a bad grade, 
you are enough.

When the boy you like says he doesn’t feel the same,
you are enough.

When your parents get mad at you, 
you are enough. 

People will try to tell you what to do, who to be, and what to think.
Listen and adhere only to what feels true in your heart.

Be you,
because you are enough. 

Commercials, billboards, and Instagram advertisements will try to tell you how to look, what to weigh, and what you need for happiness.  
Don’t listen.
Those people in those ads are photoshopped.  
They miss the beauty in the lines we’ve lived.
Be you, 
because you are enough.

(Btw, the “Koko” side of your family was sold a story that being thin correlated with a woman’s worth.  This is a lie. Your worth is not in any way related to any number. All that matters is how you feel inside.)

Your inherent worth can never, ever, be taken away from you.
No matter what. 
You are never bad. Only good.

As spirits living a human life, 
we just make mistakes (miss the mark) sometimes.
What is more important is that we learn, grow, and evolve.
And don’t despair if it takes several times to learn the lesson.
We’ve all been there.

Not only are you always enough,
you are always loved.

Some people will treat you badly. 
But it is not, it is NEVER, your fault.
They don’t see your divinity, 
and have forgotten theirs.
Set a boundary.  
Love yourself. 

At times, people will get mad and yell.
It’s not because you are bad.
They just don’t know how to process their emotions,
and have learned to control others out of fear.
Many adults just have wounds that they still need to heal.
It is up to them to heal them, not yours.
Your job is to be you. 

As a 7th grader, you may have already had to untangle who you are at your heart versus who you’ve become to fit in and please others.
If you can do that now, 
it will save you a lot of pain as an adult. 

Sometimes being yourself can feel scary, but remember,
you are enough.
Some may criticize you and call you weird.
Don’t worry about them.

Most people who are caged (afraid to be themself)
are jealous of those who are free (act from their true self).

By the way, did you know that weird actually means 
“one who walks the path of fate”?
Walk the path of your destiny, my love.

Your voice deserves to be heard.
Your emotions deserve to be felt and soothed.
You deserve to be seen.
It all matters, 
because you matter. 

You, my Love, 
are enough,
exactly as you are. 

The things we think matter- 
grades, athletic skills, looks-
don’t actually matter. 

What matters is how you feel.
What matters is how you make others feel.
What matters is being kind.
What matters is that you know how to give love and receive love.

What matters is you being you,
because, my Love, you are enough. 

I love you.

Ray (& Pacer)

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More than Words:Peace, Love, Joy, Magic

Peace. Love. Joy. Magic.

These are the words we see sprinkled throughout department stores, decorations, and greeting cards each holiday season. 

Yet how often do we pause and reflect what they mean? Or, more importantly, the feeling that these words embody?

Most of us have realized and accepted that the feelings masked behind these words cannot be found in material things. Actually, I would say that the millennial and younger generations have rejected the notion altogether. Unfortunately, I think most would also find it hard to believe that these feelings can be found ever present inside of ourselves, underneath our anxiety and depression. But the truth is…Peace, love, joy, and magic are the ingredients that make up the light of our souls. 

Why? Why is it so hard to tap into this natural state of being? 

Well, at one level, many of us were taught to seek for answers, wisdom, validation, love… salvation, from sources outside of ourselves. Thank you religion, material culture, societal structures, and fear/anger-based parenting.  

For some reason, the line “kingdom of Heaven” kept coming into my head while writing this. I think it’s because my Catholic upbringing clearly taught me that God was outside of myself, God and Jesus were male, and while on earth, I should look to priests for both answers and forgiveness, and then my parents*. But the phrase, “kingdom of Heaven” pretty clearly seems to state otherwise both in my mind, my own practice, and even in religious texts. While various verses in the bible are partially up for translation (or rather, they have been translated in a way that the “editors” saw fit), Luke was pretty clear (17:21) when Jesus said, “The kingdom of God does not come with observation; nor will they say, ‘See here!’ or ‘See there!’ For indeed, the kingdom of God is within you” (NKJV) BOOM. Of course, I love The Gospel of Mary (Magdalen), which includes the passage:

“When the Blessed One said these things, he greeted them all and said, “Peace be with you! Acquire my peace. Be careful not to let anyone mislead you by saying, ‘Look over here!’ or ‘Look over there!’ Because the Son of Humanity exists within you. Follow him! Those who seek him will find him.

“Go then and preach the gospel about the kingdom. Don’t  lay down any rules beyond what I’ve given you, nor make a law like the lawgiver, lest you be bound by it.” 

*How cool would it be if more parents asked their kids not only what they think about various topics, but questions like “What is your heart telling you?”, “What is your body trying to communicate to you?”, and “What does your intuition say?”.

Another translation comes from the German philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche who said, “The “kingdom of Heaven” is a condition of the heart- not something that comes ‘upon the earth’ or ‘after death'”. 

Yet these verses are not widespread because, well, it sure would be hard to control and make money off of people who didn’t live off of fear but instead knew they were different rays of God/ Consciousness/ Source/Love, etc. 

Still, you could just say that I am picking the passages and quotes I want to to prove my point, so let’s go to part two.

If we go off this theory, that in the heart resides the kingdom of Heaven, that we can always access it when we are aligned with joy, peace, and love, what blocks us from accessing it? 

The short answer: The ego-mind. 

From a psychological perspective, we know that neural pathways tell the story of our belief systems and thoughts. Remember “neurons that fire together, wire together.” These pathways are created and strengthened throughout childhood and teenage years. Developmental theories, like Erik Erikson’s Stages of Development, or Bowlby’s and Ainsworth’s Attachment Theory, give us even more tangible guidelines on how the ego is developed. For example, according to Erikson, between 18 months and three years, toddlers learn autonomy and/or shame, based on their situation and nurturance. It’s really all about the story the child tells themself about what happened and the feelings they experienced (and did or did not process), which continues through life until that belief is challenged. And remember, a child will prefer to live in a world where s/he is bad rather than ever believe that their parents, or god, is bad, for their view is ego-centric (children can only explain things from a personal standpoint) and they rely on their parents/caregivers for survival. 

Then we get to question, what lies under these developed belief systems? What is left when we prune back the neural pathways? What happens when the mind quiets?

It’s not a blank slate. We know that from both observing and studying the brain scans of well-trained meditators. Those blissed out monks. The smiling, curious babies (who are also super sensory and not yet trained in emotional regulation…they just let it all flow out no matter the who or how.). 

My best guess as to what is left when we quiet the mind and remember to look inwards?

It’s a return to the heart and hearing the heart’s guidance. It’s a return to our soul and the peace, love, joy, and magic that makes up our Light. 

***

I’m going to write more in depth on this topic in my next blog, but for now, a great practice is to (individually at first) imagine what peace, love, and joy feels like inside your body. It may be helpful to bring up a memory that helps you tap into the feeling or imagined scene. Then, just take a few breaths, a few minutes, to bask in the feeling. If you can’t get there all the way, that’s okay. Even if you “pretend” the feeling is there, that is great too! The imagination is an amazing, amazing tool for creating. 

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Armor

I started forming my shell long ago. 
A protection against the world.
My defense against a false love named fear.

It started pre-memory,
I’m sure. 
Yet innocense left room for possibility.
A possibility that turned into defeat.
There was no space for my tears.

In high school, on my dresser,
I hung up a poem,
about a mask. 

The mask I wore,
but no one could see.
They had mistaken it for me.

Eventually,
I believed it too.
I got lost in the identity of my mask,
and left myself behind.

Still, she called to me.
The little girl without a voice.
But I had forgotten how to listen,
my heart, boxed up and tucked away.

My shell turned into armor,
and I became untouchable.
Disconnected from myself,
and all of you, too.
No hug could pass through.

I wonder,
If someone knew…
If someone like me…
Would have seen…
Would have loved..
Would have said “you’re okay”…
“You are meant to be here”…
“You are meant to be a light in the dark.”

I wonder,
What life would be like,
if I had had me.
To love me.
To instruct me.
To give myself a voice.

Yet I know I am exactly where I am meant to be,
and the opportunity still exist. 
To love myself back to the beginning.
In the armor and beyond the shell.
In the pain and through the fear.
To find myself again,
and be exactly who I am,
innocent, wise, and whole.

******

The two poems on masks have been taped on that dresser for 20 years. TWENTY years!
But even before that, I tried to simultaneously mask up and numb out…below is my 7th grade basketball picture, not long before I ended up at Rainbow Babies & Children’s hospital to be treated for anorexia, just before Christmas. Did my smile hide the fading body that didn’t know how to be in this world?
It was recently brought to my attention through a podcast, reading, and experience, that empaths and highly sensitive people tend to protect themselves more with their masks than others who are not so sensitive, as it is a survival skill to live in an insensitive world. The painful part is that deep down, they know its a mask…

Reparenting comes in loving each wounded part. For me, because I have worn masks for so long, it took years and years and lots of, unconsciously, re-identifying with my masks, making the journey of letting go quite painful at times. It’s also a re-training. I’ve always felt either armored or weak in my sensitivities but have discovered the strengths of feeling so deeply. I have come to understand that if I tap into the energy inside myself and allow it to be expressed outward, I can both keep other’s energies out and help others feel there emotions while allowing them to de-mask. (Link to part 1 of my 2-part Sensitivities as Superpowers series: https://www.instagram.com/p/C0w0H6RPgd5/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link&igsh=MjJkMmIyYzQxYw==.)

While I can’t physically go back in time and give my younger self “me” to love her, I can mentally and emotionally go back in time while also using my imagination to insert myself in challenging memories. I can still give her/me, what I needed, thereby healing old wounds. In healing, I no longer have to live from a wounded place, but from a place of wholeness.

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Lost & Found

I may never be able to sing as beautifully as Jade Castrinos and Pacer may never be able to match the notes I’m singing (not that I ever know what note I’m signing in).
*Pacer’s aunt and uncle are teaching her to differentiate between speak, talk, and howl… I suggested adding in “whisper”.

Pacer is never going to be able to do a whole Yoga flow sequence with me and we’ll never do a choreographed dance routine, partially because Pacer is smart enough to know she’ll get a treat anyway (have you seen her big brown eyes?) or she’ll counter surf for leftovers, partially because I’m not patient or interested enough to teach her, and mainly because its just not our thing. (Although it’s neat to watch other humans and their dogs do these cool tricks!)

What perhaps is more amazing- dare I say miraculous- is that every time I have been lost- and I have been really, really lost- Pacer has found me and brought me Home. 

****

I have always said that Pacer is an extension of my heart. And in the past, when I was too afraid to love other humans and let other humans love me, she gave me enough safety that I could allow hers in. I love and have loved her so much, that I’ve risked my heart breaking in the fear of ever losing her. Our love has remained my one constant in the past decade of change. In all of my screw ups, failures, and bad decisions (or so my ego labels), she still loved me. She never wavered, as a human might. Eventually, even through all my shame stories, she got me believing that I was worth loving. She has taught me that it’s okay to be soft, that softness is the other side of strength. In her unconditional love, she reflected the Home that resides in all of us. Sometimes I’ve been too blind to see all of her lessons, such as that the risk of loving so deeply is always worth it, that true love never really goes away. I think that must be the gift of all doGs.

In this too, I am reminded of the last line of the prophetic poem my older sister wrote for me, now four Christmases ago, her last. She paraphrased JRR Tolkien, reassuring me “not all who wander are lost”, because when you are Home, you are never lost.

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