24 November

Continued: The Boogie Men Of Fear And Sheer Awfulness

by Jon Katz

My conversation about Diane about the death of her Corgi Simon is continuing today. Diane replied to my post – When Good Dogs Die – yesterday, we were talking about grieving for animals and people.

Diane was suffering great pain over the impending loss of her dog. She has also lost a child. She seems both wise and sensitive to me. Also, ultimately, quite strong. She can see beyond her pain of the moment.

Diane is someone I admire and respect from her writing. I’d like to get to know her and hope she stays in touch.

It seems we are having a dialogue. I wonder if she might give me permission to share her e-mail with you (I did not use her real name)  – there are a lot of loving people out there, and a lot of them are writing to me about Diane.

I told her I couldn’t really help her, but she says I might have. Her words to me last night:

“Thank you, and yes, I just read your blog post. I think more than anything, it helps to put into words what I am feeling. Last night when I wrote, the boogie men of fear and sheer awfulness were looming large. Today I went to a funeral of a friend (timing is everything) who lived large and touched many people, and came away feeling more at peace with whatever we need to do. Then I read your email, and your words helped as well. Tara Brach talks about the sangha, the community of people, who can understand a particular experience or hurt. I don’t care for the “fur baby” description of pets, but I recognize that this guy is going to leave a pretty big hole when he goes, which I anticipate will be within a day or two.”

I think what helped Diane was not my wisdom but a sense that someone understood her pain, even if they couldn’t remove it for her. Perhaps I am part of the community of people who can understand hurt and pain. I know many of the people who read my blog can and do understand what she is feeling.
So many of us have lost dogs and people.
Brach also writes about the three facets of true refuge – awareness, truth, and love – feelings that come to life as we dedicate our presence to them.
I think Diane seeks refuge from pain and sorrow, something I suspect we all want and struggle to find. I have found my refuge in love.
You can mentally recite the three phrases of refuge, Tara Brach (Radical Acceptance) writes:  – “I take refuge in awareness; I take refuge in truth; I take refuge in love.” – and after each, reflecting on what is vital and meaningful about that particular refuge.
Instead of awareness – truth – love, you might use a Sanskrit word  – sangha.
In attending the funeral of her friend, perhaps Diane found perspective and community. We all suffer. We all fear death We all will die. I have a feeling (she can feel free to correct me) that she experienced the great spiritual gift of perspective after the funeral. Her friend’s death, which she seems to have accepted,  brought her perspective on the loss of her much loved Corgi.
Eve Marko, a great and a Zen teacher, wrote to me once to say “loss is  loss.” Wise words when I thought about it. And death is death. Losing someone or something we love very much is painful. Period.
I believe Diane to be showing us all the power and value of awareness, the healing power of truth -her writing is very honest – and the refuge to be found in love. I find refuge and solace with human beings or spiritual teachers who show what Brach calls “enlightened awareness” –  luminosity, openness, and love.
That’s the awareness I seek and work hard to find.
Reading Diane’s response reminded me of my love of holes. I may feel differently than she does about them.
Diane will have a big hole in her life in a day or two.
But the gift of big holes is that we get to fill them with something as big or bigger than the thing we lost.
I lost two children and then was given a wonderful daughter (and granddaughter)  I would not ever have had or known of those children lived. I lost Red, the most wonderful dog I have known, and now have Zinnia, who is rapidly filling up the hole Red left behind.
When I wrote these past few months, I often thought Red’s death had left a huge hole in my life. As I wrote this, I see that this hole is beginning to fill. I don’t think about Red too much anymore. Zinnia is filling in the hole, I took this photo right behind me as I write this.
I think grief and fear are cousins in a way, we can’t really control or eliminate either one whenever we wish, but I believe it is possible to live around them and to survive them. Time is a great healer, just like they say.
I would never tell anyone to get over their grief or fear. But I know that I do and can.
What I have come to see in my own life is that both fear and grief are, in their own way, a kind of emotional geography, a space to cross.
It may not be easy getting to the other side, but there always is another side, a place of light and peace. That’s difficult, perhaps even impossible to remember when I am frightened or grieving.
I ask Maria or my friends and loved ones to remind me.
When all is said and done, the bogeymen of fear and grief and awfulness are not real, as much as they sting. They are feelings.
I am real, and I am enough.

5 Comments

  1. Thank you,Jon,for this posting.
    Soon I will be shaking hands with fear as make my way to Ohio to relocate to be close to my son whom is hurting.
    I will be going out on a limb in my choosing to reside there,because I am unfamiliar with that state,nor is anyone going to welcome me there. I do not have a place to stay in Ohio & I am looking for employment.
    So,Yes,I am familiar with fear.
    God-willing,this unwelcome fear is only a feeling & nothing horrid will happen as a result of my decision to embrace my son in his time of need.
    As always,
    Your writings are timely & much appreciated.
    God bless you!!!

  2. I believe in the phrase that nature abhors a vacuum

    We can either fill it with love or despair I choose love

    I have been at the passing of several of my animals , many knowing the time was approaching at a speed
    My fear in those days consumed me and I was overwhelmed with pain and distress
    However at the time they went I felt calmed despite my grief now I’m not saying that I wanted them to leave but the waiting until the inevitable happens can be doubly painful

    I don’t know whether this makes sense I still miss my hounds cats etc but my strength to love is increased by my loss

  3. I lost my mom and dad this year within 5 weeks of each other. I have days where I can laugh and smile about them and there are times I just lose it. They were beautiful kind people ….of course it hurts… but I try and help other people with a kind word a smile or a hug. And my pet little nugget just sits of my shoulder and purrs….yes rats purr. Life goes on….and that’s what mom and dad would want

  4. ‘What I have come to see in my own life is that both fear and grief are, in their own way, a kind of emotional geography, a space to cross. It may not be easy getting to the other side, but there always is another side, a place of light and peace.’
    Good words, Jon. Thanks.

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