I cherished the pristine beauty, even after all these years, of Jasmine’s burial grounds beneath a tree in the wild lands. I’m not exactly sure what called me to visit on this particular afternoon, to step away from my insistent list of to-dos, from the social plans on my calendar, and from the unfinished and un-started projects still waiting.
Along the road to the red rock mesas, following the mystery of the calling, my sense of adventure was joined with sadness. A subtle yet present grief. My linear mind wanted to figure out the why of my emotions. My heart said: Just let it be.
I pondered the many changes I’ve been witnessing in people’s lives. Self-initiated changes. The ripple effect of others’ decisions. Changes that have come about suddenly. Changes that have unfolded through carefully mapped out plans. Each change requires the reweaving of personal webs of relationships, health, home, finances, work, and even dreams.
I pondered the many voices calling for broad, global, social changes. This too requires taking apart old webs and redesigning, rebuilding, the new.
I felt my hunger for the shiftings too.
So how do we make the journey from Here to There?
With any change, there will be letting go. A leaving behind. Something coming to completion, dying away. Something fulfilling it’s purpose, no longer needed. Like a snake shedding skins and trees dropping their leaves, the letting go opens space for growth and movement. Even though change is natural, in our human lives, we may feel grief. We may feel fear. We may awaken our sense of aliveness, creativity, freedom, and passion for the adventure.
Change can be understood as a passage through a doorway, moving over the threshold toward the mystery, and stepping into the new. And interestingly, once we take steps across the threshold, the mystery of where we were heading is no longer completely unknown. We have a taste of the new terrain. We touch the possibilities. We open our eyes to the universe of potentials that haven’t yet been explored.
When I was with Jasmine, my four-legged friend, as she found her way through her dying, one of the lasting gifts she shared was showing me there can be love in the leaving. Love carried her over the threshold from her canine existence into the Great Beyond. She was loved through her passage. She left a pathway of love in her living and in her dying. And she never stopped loving the world she left behind.
There can be love in the leaving. We can bring love into our passages from here (wherever we are) to there.
As I wandered the muddy mesas, I relished the hint of spring in the air. I circled back to visit Jasmine’s sacred site. Peace filled my heart. Comfort and connection. A deep inner quieting held in the expanse of wide-open horizons and brilliant blue skies.
Maybe this is why I had come. Maybe this is what called me here. The homecoming. The remembering. Leaving behind the shoulds, allowing space for the grief, opened all the more fully my heart.
I said my goodbyes and gave my offerings to Jasmine, to the rocks and the trees, to the nearby river, to all the wildly diverse beings who are part of my pack. And with love filling the leaving, I continued on my way.