It was early May and my wife and I were grieving. We had lost her father to cancer, and then, three weeks later, we lost our dog to cancer. I wandered around the house endlessly, and then I sat down to write. All my mind would see was the final hour of our pup’s life.
He could no longer walk without assistance, so I carried Ghandi over to the park and across the soccer field. I sat him down so he could sniff a particularly high patch of grass, a place he loved to mark as his own. After a while, I picked him up and carried him back home. I fed him from a newly opened can of food, which he devoured, and he went to sleep on a soft blanket.
The scene played over in my mind. His final minutes at the vet’s office. My wife and I crying, holding each other, standing in the parking lot near the car. It was if hope was obscured by clouds of fear and doubt. It felt like I was in a fog. I couldn’t see the light. The haze told me to sleep, and so I did.
Then one day, several weeks later, I woke up. The haze was gone. It seemed as though I was standing in the bright sunshine after seeing nothing but rain. The mourning wasn’t completely over, but at least now I could breathe.
I had to catch up on my emails, so I began to read. One in particular caught my attention. It reminded me that no one is alone. Not one of us. And what sets the universe in motion is our desire to make it so.
“Concerning all acts of initiative (and creation), there is one elementary truth the ignorance of which kills countless ideas and splendid plans: that the moment one definitely commits oneself, then providence moves too. A whole stream of events issues from the decision, raising in one’s favor all manner of unforeseen incidents, meetings and material assistance, which no man could have dreamt would have come his way.
“I learned a deep respect for one of Goethe’s couplets:Whatever you can do or dream you can, begin it.Boldness has genius, power and magic in it!”Â ~ William Hutchinson Murray, The Scottish Himalayan Expedition (1951)
I sometimes forget that.
I forget that legions of Divine beings have my back — and they have yours, too. I forget that we all work together to fashion a collective whole that benefits every single piece. I forget that this isn’t a universe of lack, but a universe of absolute potential. My intention is to remember that we’re all connected. And that when one of us hurts, the rest of us feel the pain and send our love.