And just like that, life changes and is more joyful again.
This past Saturday, Craig and I drove a half hour south of Columbus to a really wonderful animal rescue to pick up our newest family member.
Craig had been looking for a while. I’d given him some parameters and told him not to include me in the search. It felt too sad to me and I still had mixed feelings about getting another white cat — or even another cat. I had been contemplating a dog because I thought then I wouldn’t put Peony expectations on them.
When he saw that she had two different colored eyes, he knew she was the one. Like Peony AND David Bowie were sending her to me.
To remind me of myself.
And I would have to write millions of words to try to describe how much this has changed everything.
I tried to write about it in the Sanctuary:
There are so many layers to what's happening for me since Craig brought Begonia Yuki into my life. I'm sure I will be writing about this here and there for some time.
But at some point this weekend, I wrote a note to a friend, saying that I realized I did not have an OUNCE of care or energy to point toward the negative, the "news," the crap of the world. I wasn't even thinking about it.
And she wrote back that Begonia is the light, because of course.
Here's the thing...
I can still hold -- with utter tenderness, vulnerability, and depth -- my grief over losing Peony Yuki. She will forever be with me.
BUT at the same time, I can see now more clearly the gifts she gave me because I am not drowning in my grief. Day to day, I was struggling to just keep my head above water...
And the biggest gift Peony gave me was JOY. My capacity for joy.
She opened my heart and there were nights years ago when she literally saved my life and then opened my heart ever wider.
To say I was lost when I lost her... I was in the labyrinth and I had no string or breadcrumbs to guide me out...
Or so I thought.
Grief can be so overwhelming, so overriding that the gifts we're left with are of no help.
Until another being comes along and reignites that.
I love the other animals in my life, but I (here's some woo...) seem to have some sort of soul connection to these little white/pink cats. (End of bit from the Sanctuary.)
Right now, as I sit here writing this, Begonia is in my lap, purring, content to just be with me. If I got up and walked into another room, she would follow. If I close a door and she’s on the other side, she cries. She is chattering to me regularly. She engages when I’m teaching or doing movement work.
She needs attention from me. And I needed that more than I even knew.
I can’t explain this even to myself and I don’t need to… I can just be grateful that a small white cat with big pink ears is the key to my wellbeing and my sense of centeredness and joy, because what a wonderfully simple and beautiful key she is.