Freedom and Independence

In three more days my husband and I will celebrate the first year anniversary of our little poodle, Libre', coming to live with us. This time last year was a bittersweet time for us. Our other little poodle, Keva, had just passed away only two weeks before after a long struggle with heart disease and Cushings disease. She left us the night of our 17th anniversary. We were devastated. She had been with us for almost the entire length of our marriage. She was our fur child. Saying goodbye that night was unbearable for us both. I had devoted the entire year before her passing to keeping her alive and comfortable. I did endless research on the best herbs and supplements and poured most of it into her little mouth trying desperately to make her comfortable from an illness I knew would eventually take her from us. I was hoping, as most of us hope with our pets, that she would be the exception and live far longer than the vets predicted. And, in the end she did. The vet told us the night of her passing that she had lived a full year longer than most dogs could have with these diseases. It brought me little comfort, however. I still felt as though I had failed her somehow. I think that's what most of us feel when we devote ourselves to someone's recovery. I thought I could heal her. When she left her little body, she had been struggling to breathe for months. Now she no longer struggled, and now I was left to see what my life would look like next.

My last year had been consumed with my little Keva's comfort and now I was left with a big void to fill. I had been telling friends and family that once Keva was gone I didn't want another dog for a while. I needed some time to just take care of me. I had been taking care of someone since I was 19 years old, when I had my first child, and I needed to know what it was like just taking care of me. I wanted some freedom, finally. That's what I kept saying, and that's what I firmly believed. Until Keva left.

When she left, that all changed and I got to see a part of me I had not known was in me. To ease the pain of my quiet and empty house, I began to look online for a poodle breeder. I thought if I could have a good breeder's name on file, then one day, when I was ready to share my home again, I would have someone to call. It gave me comfort knowing that I could call someone, when I was ready. But, what began to happen each day as I looked at cute little poodle puppies online was a deep ache in my heart to share myself again with the warmth of a furry little being. I was overcome with longing as I looked at each little picture. It had only been a week and my stance on needing freedom was melting away. My heart was leading me, and I knew I would be contacting a breeder soon. My husband was ready to embrace a new little being into our lives, but I knew it would be my responsibility to care of this new puppy with total devotion since he was a very busy man with his work. And even though my head tried to argue about my need for freedom, my heart was tugging at me to open itself to a bigger life than the life of what I thought was free and unimcumbered. Within a week my heart had won and we were on our way to Las Vegas to see a little brown puppy that was ready to go home.

I have never regretted that day. We walked into the room where our little Libre' was and with one look I knew my heart had just expanded. Her little puppy kisses healed a year of grief as I had watched my Keva slip away. And right then and there I realized that independence was what I was really wanting instead of freedom. Independence meant I could still have what I wanted, but that I needed to learn how to take the time for ME while experiencing my journey with someone else.

Since that time, Steve and I have taken a trip away and left Libre' with a pet sitter, something we rarely did with Keva. It felt good to know she was happy and that we had our time of fun. I had my independence AND I had another fur child. My heart has truly expanded and my life is now much fuller. I'm glad I listened to my heart and allowed another little furry being to come into my life and fill my days with puppy kisses. Libre's name means Free. I know she was named appropriately.

Floating and Connected

The last few years of my life have been undefined. At least I feel that way. When people ask me what I’ve been up to lately, it’s hard to say exactly what I’ve been doing. I seem to stay busy doing things around my house, cleaning, cooking, shopping for groceries, paying the bills, keeping our puppy happy and fed. The usual everyday stuff. Nothing spectacular or earth changing it seems.

I remember when this shift occurred in my life. I was busy doing phone sessions with clients. My days and weeks were filled with phone calls or in person sessions with people visiting our area and looking for a good intuitive. I was happy. It was my chosen career and I felt it brought meaning into my life. I had been doing these sessions for years and I felt great fulfillment from it. I had become quite connected to my spirit during this time. I felt I was learning so much about myself through my sessions with others and it was gratifying. I was defined. I had a purpose and my life had meaning. I had found my life’s calling. Until, gradually, over time, I began to feel a deeper pull; a pull that needed more time with me and less time assisting others. I resisted this pull for a while, afraid to let go of my comfortable, well defined world. I knew that if I let go of that identity I might enter into the abyss of the unknown, the undefined, and ultimately the loss of who I thought I was. I held onto my identity for as long as I could until one day I just didn’t want to hear the phone ring any more or answer another question from someone seeking some clarity. I finally HAD to let go, and so I did. That’s when I began to float.

I was very uncomfortable with floating. I didn’t know how to explain this new way of living to anyone; especially ME. I no longer had an anchor into a world that explains itself through what we DO for a living. I had released myself from that job title. I no longer felt my life’s purpose. I would often ask my spirit, “I know I am surrendering, but isn’t there anything I can DO?” The answer was always, no, be still and just BE. It was a very uncomfortable place to stay, this place of not knowing, not creating, or not holding onto something solid. It took a few years to not feel the guilt I felt for not being productive in a world of fast moving, fast creating people. It was also difficult to describe this state of being to people when I would first meet them. The number one question people ask, after they know your name, is “what do you do?” I struggled to answer this question because I really didn’t know. I didn’t seem to do much according to the standards of our society. Keeping a clean and organized household was not what they were wanting to hear. They wanted to hear about my chosen career, and I no longer had one. At least, that’s the way it appeared.

After a few years, I finally found my rhythm with floating. After struggling with trying to create purpose in my every day tasks, I finally had begun to relax and I began to truly enjoy the freedom this kind of life offered. I poured myself into my daily tasks and began to find comfort in the simplicity of the unfolding day. This worked for me. I now felt content knowing my daily efforts brought great comfort to my husband and made his life more balanced. I also began to notice how much I felt more aware of ME, my true nature, my natural flow with things. I saw more gentleness in me and more compassion. I had been this way with others, but now I was beginning to see it with me. That was important. This awareness was helping me relax more. I was becoming more intrigued with my authentic way of living with me. I wasn’t focused on others’ lives and how I could help THEM. I was now seeing only me everyday. It had been a long time since I had spent a lot of time with ME, and I was beginning to like what I was feeling. Beyond all the big activity of my life, there was an inner core of softness that I could now feel. I was beginning to recognize that this softness was my driving force; my creator, and the fluid that I was floating in. I was beginning to connect.

I’ve been floating for quite a few years now and I’ve passed through many different phases of this surrendered state. First, there were the feelings of guilt, those lasted for quite a while. Then, there were the upset people who just wanted me to get a job. Mostly these were women who didn’t want me to be a stay at home wife. They wanted me to be empowered with a career. That was always difficult for me to encounter. I knew it was my own scared little voice wanting me to go back to an old and safe identity. Then, and this was the most unsettling for me; feeling like I didn’t know ME any more; who I was and where I truly belonged. And, finally, after years of commitment to this place of simply being without the need to DO SOMETHING, there has been the feeling of relief and knowing that I don’t HAVE to know who I am. I can now go beyond that box and truly expand into a more open, loving, and compassionate place that exists beyond an identified, explainable self. I like this phase. I’m hoping it continues.

Floating is still a process for me. A much easier process, but still a process. There are still times I look for a life line and try to pull myself to the assumed safety of the shore. Sometimes, and these times are rare, I feel like I want to have a title again, a way to describe me that would make others relax and me feel connected to a big life purpose again. But, when I look at how my heart has expanded itself for me, my consciousness has become more pliable with an ability to see beyond the smaller picture, and my friends and family love my availability because I AM more available, then I LOVE the connections this floating has created and I am becoming more relaxed with this soft place where my heart wants my life to reside that is beyond explanation and conformity. It’s a great place to BE. Maybe not an easy place to explain to someone, but a great place to show them the benefits of letting go of an identifiable world and gently live in the mystery and creativity of floating.