Has it really been a year since I’ve written? Yes, it has and I can hardly believe it, but here I am.
On March 17th our goat matriarch, Sweetpea, celebrated her 17th birthday. She had been loving her life as an elder, being “mother” to five young goats, feeling like she owned her kingdom. In April, Sweetpea ate breakfast, but didn’t want to go out to be with her herd. She slept most of that day, not wanting to rise. She was too tired she said, and ready to leave her old, achy body.
When the vet helped Sweetpea leave she took off like a rocket and it felt like she was dancing, playing and raining joy down on us. Her energy covered the whole farm, celebrating her life, and her glorious passing. She is so deeply missed, but her spirit is strong here.
At the end of August, sweet black alpaca, Giselle, left her body. She’d only been with us for three years, but she was 18 years old. She was a very petite girl, gentle, timid, and quiet. Giselle and I developed a deep bond as and made herself at home here and was happy.
One day Giselle suddenly fell, shook her head, then quickly got up and came in to eat as if nothing had happened. She made me feel that she was perfectly fine, but the next morning, I found her cushed (sitting) by the hay rack where she’d been eating, and she couldn’t get up. Giselle was calm and sweet and let me know that it was fine, it was her time to go. Her passing was quiet and sweet our my precious little girl was gone.
There was such an elegance in both Sweetpea and Giselle. They were different species, different personalities, but both of them had a dignity and a quiet, elegant core. They both left their bodies without fuss, without confusion, with resolve and with grace. Both of them gave me so many gifts during their lifetimes and also gave me a gift in their death. I was so honored to care for these elders that needed special attention and saw so deeply into their hearts. They each made me feel that our relationship was important and pure and that I had done everything possible to make their lives happy, to keep them feeling strong, comfortable and loved. What a gift for me to feel that instead of wishing I had done something more, something better!
In this world that is in great turmoil now, with chaos, hatred, wars, separation, and pain, I often feel that there is more that I should do. Something that could straighten things out, make things more comfortable and loving for everyone. I am not in danger helping people escape, in a hospital taking care of the wounded, in a disaster helping people to be safe, things that seem so important and selfless to me. I so admire the people doing that boots-on-the-ground work and I wish I were doing it.
Of course, I am connected to the ache of the world and own it in because we are all one. I am compassionate, empathic, I feel the pain, I embrace the suffering. Yet, I am not in a war zone, I am here, on this beautiful land with animals I love, staying peaceful, and sending out love to the world, and I wonder if it’s enough. Is it enough? Does it change anything? Am I doing all I can to make this world a safer, more loving home for all people and animals?
Several years ago a friend of mine went to Rwanda for a gorilla encounter. When she described the gorillas she exuded a beautiful energy that was powerful and deep. She told me about the young gorillas playing, the silver back so close, simple things the different gorillas were doing. As I listened to her I could feel the gorillas, their peace and beauty radiating through my friend and my heart was bursting with love for them. Yet, at the end of her story my friend said sadly, “But I thought I’d be able to help them, to do something to make the world better for them and I didn’t even get a message from them.”
I felt the gorillas love as they said to her, “You SAW us.” That was it, “You SAW us.” That simple sentence was full of everything that anyone could do to save the world, be connected, or love others. It was enough.
Whatever our own personal path is, we are not helpless. We can let go of our worry that we aren’t doing enough and stand in the space of what we can do. And in that place we can SEE and feel others, and our compassion and love goes out to the world. The conscious act of seeing deeply touches others, and when one is actually SEEN, it can change their world, if only for that moment. I SEE you. Sometimes it is enough.