It felt a privilege to be invited into this tender space with you and Henrietta, KK. As humans we often think it’s us who choose our pet-companions, but I’m more and more convinced it’s they who choose us—climbing into our hearts, taking us to the most vulnerable parts of life and self we’d otherwise never visit. Gorgeous picture of you both 🤗
Oh, Helen - I love the idea of Henrietta having chosen me! Big smile on my face! Love love love this! Thank you so much for stopping by to read and write to me. Lots of love. 💙
This is very moving, KK. And I think that stranger was right about a dog’s love. When my first dog died I grieved much more openly than I did for my parents. My therapist told me that Buddhists say dogs are here to teach us how to love and live. They allow us to be real and uncomplicated. So I think Henri is allowing you to process things that are more complex in human relationships - even in the relationship we have with ourselves. I am glad the op went well. xx
Dear Anna, thank you so much for visiting here and for your comment. I love the Buddhist idea that dogs are here to teach us how to love and live. Thanks for sharing that. I do feel that I've been radically transformed by my companionship with Henri - and continue to be so every day. I've had dogs in the past but I think with Henri - and I guess because of being in midlife - I have opened myself up in a way I never had before - spiritually - and this has made all the difference. Thanks for sharing about your grief - it's like your dog was grief's midwife? That's such a powerful and generous role. Lots of love. 💙
This is beautiful KK. I love the depth and heart of it. And what a beautiful photo of you and Henrietta. She is a beauty. I think a lot of humanity holds a preoccupation with death. How different life could be if we truly embraced the moment we are in. Thank you for your presence in this piece.
Dear Lynette - thank you for visiting here and for your comment. I must admit I do mostly live in the future, which is weird because that is impossible. How different could life be if we truly embraced the moment we are in? I keep trying, keep bringing myself back, pulling my soul back from the future. I'm like Sisyphus in reverse - or something like that. Love of love. 💙
dear KK and all. my feelings about legacy are a mixed bag. long ago i chose to be child-free and have never regretted that choice. so i am aware that objects that have been in my family for only two generations (due to the genocide of the second world war) will find a way in the world that i won't know. my deeper question about legacy is about ego. is it what i regard as the most superficial part of who i am that wants to be 'remembered'? millions, trillions of people have died since human life on earth began. do we have a legacy from them? what is it that i actually want to be remembered? the 'things' are less important to me than my values. the next generation of my blood family, niece and nephew, already know my values and have taken what is valuable to them from my life. i want no more. yes, the candelabra that was my mother's will find a new home after my death. it is an object, a thing. it is not my legacy.
Dear Felice, thank you for stopping by and for reading. Your thoughts here are helpful. I love the idea of letting go of ego, gifting values to the next generation and letting the candelabra find its own new home. As for the trillions of people who have died before us - I have always been curious about them. When I studied history at school, I was obsessed by all the names and lives of those who never made it into the history books. How did they live? What became of them? How can there be no trace of them? I guess, even by thinking about them, I felt I sort kept an imaginary candle lit for them, the faintest memory that they had lived. Thank you for writing here, Felice. Lots of love. 💙
Thank you, it was sad yet beautiful to read. In recent years I want to hold the idea that we all made out of energy and we're interconnected- nothing can be created or destroyed.., according the 1st law of energy. It helps me sometimes..
Dear Jazz, thank you for stopping by and reading and commenting. I love what you say about interconnectedness. I think Rochelle, below, has a similar sense. Do you feel our energy then continues in some form - forever? 💙
I understand that this is how I feel and others may think differently. There are so many things we don't understand or have been taught to think in certain ways.. Recently, I've been meditating about how much we've been conditioned to perceive death as a frightening and negative human experience, also as the end of our existence.. What if it is not?
Totally resonates with me too (not the dog part, I had no issues with neutering both dog and cat, maybe it’s easier with boys?). I also chose not to have children (I suppose I still have 1-2 years to change my mind), and often wonder if that feeds into my death anxiety. Which btw was helped so much by your Stoics writing course ❤️❤️ I think this is part of what compels me to write, but perhaps not the best of reasons.
Dear Rachel, lovely to see you here. Thanks for bringing up the idea of childlessness and death anxiety - I too will think about that a little more. I was listening to someone on the radio today who was talking about memorabilia and items of clothing which she was excited to share with her children. And I felt the slightest, faintest discomfort - but I'm not sure what that was - death anxiety or something else going on. Thanks for sharing your thoughts here. Lots of love. 💙
Thank you for this heartfelt, honest piece,KK. I envy your close bond with Henri. I’ve always been frightened of dogs and they can feel my nervousness. I wish it weren’t that way. X
Dear Emma - thank you for visiting here. I'd like to think that Henri would make you feel safe. We send you loving vibes. Thank you so much reading and for your comment here. Lots of love. 💙
KK, my dear...reading your lines here in a café in Nantes, and I do my best to keep the flood gates closed. Oh, how this resonates! Henritta & you will always be remembered for how you've made people feel. Now that is a wonderful legacy to leave behind! :) x
Hi KK! As always, your words are elegant and hearfelt. I wonder if the "genetic memory" is as important as other forms of memory - such as a leaving a legacy of wisdom or kindness. Your genetic wisdom exists within your fur baby, in the words you share, and in the touch you extended to a woman who could not bear to share her pain - but she knew you saw her.
"Leaving a legacy of wisdom or kindness." I love that, and that is what I shall focus on. Thanks, as always, for stopping by and reading. Lots of love. 💙
I can relate. I occasionally feel I am at the end of the line of a lot of memories. My sons don’t live in this country, my daughters are not really interested. I often think of what will happen to things (that have been with my family for generations), then I remember that once I am gone it won’t matter any more. I enjoy their presence in the present. Will I live beyond life? Will people remember me once I am gone? I hope so, occasionally the thought fill me with sadness but, when I think about it, once I am gone I am gone.
Koehelet (the Ecclesiastes in the Christian tradition) says that we live as long as our memory is alive, as long as somebody mentions our name or remembers us. Those are the days of the world, and the days of the world cannot be counted. Who will remember me? I have no way of knowing for certain. I try to leave in the present and the near future. There are too many things I want to do, places to see, music to listen to, and books to read.
Dear Silvano, thank you for stopping by and reading and for your comment here. It's true, we have no way of knowing who will remember us. I like your focus on the present and near future. And I enjoyed reading your response to this over on your Substack too. Lots of love, my friend. 💙
thanks for sharing this deep sorrow and the pondering that comes with the big waves of emotion. i can imagine a lot of stories for this particular sorrow, one of course being adaptive. if we don't long to see life continue, we may not allow life to continue. i can also see a lot of other stories, facing the question of her death and yours, as you said, of the stories of life after someone else's life, our own life, the essence of meaning, who are we to each other, and oh how we ache at the thought of them leaving us. and sometimes there are just no stories that can do justice to a feeling that is so deep, all we can do is ride it out or share it with a friend and see how we might ride it out together. big hugs and so happy that your gorgeous pup is back with you now <3
Dear Tara - thank you for stopping by and reading this letter and for your thoughts here. I love how you argue for the necessity of longing in the continuation of life. I wonder what life would be like if we didn't long for its continuation? I guess Buddhist and Stoic traditions (and other traditions too) hold the desire for continuity with detachment. Does detachment simply remove the suffering that comes with longing? Love how you articulate such complexity in your response. Thank you. I'll be pondering your thoughts. Love of love. 💙
KK thank you for your words. Forgive my splattering of words as I attempt to address aspects that resonate with me. First of all, what a privilege that Henri has opened such a precious series of thoughts. I once owned a dog for a while, in a marriage episode, and the dog had to be re-housed. My mother had always suggested that owning a dog was a good idea "because you get too attached"..Reading through an anthropology lecture notebook earlier today I encountered rituals amongst some indigenous peoples (first nationals) in Alaska. Involvement of whales and whale dancing was an important element of this, as was singing, all in the community. Perhaps community is an important element of this; your connection with the old woman for instance. Listening to R4 recently someone spoke of a Welsh word for (forgive the paraphrase) the loss of 'the possibility of an imagined future', or something similar. That is, when someone dies. For me, who was never someone who imagined myself being a wife or mother, and is mother to two sons and four grandchildren - three grandsons and one granddaughter - I find an enormous pleasure in my new garden, and in talking to my grandchildren about their choices about planting 'an edible fruit tree' in the garden. They have made their choices, a peach, a pear, a vine, and a cherry. For me there is something enormously nurturing in that, and knowing their pleasure in planning this enterprise. Literally, something to nourish heart and the entirety of their beings. I am pleased the op was successful. Wishing Henri a speedy recovery, and sending love to you.
The Welsh word is ‘hiraeth’ - most usually thought of as a longing or nostalgia for the inaccessible - typically the yearning for ‘home’ of emigrants - but it certainly can also apply in the way you you phrased it (I think I heard the same R4 programme) and the word indeed sprang to my mind while reading KK’s piece before I saw this comment, as did the thought of how many cultures appear to have a more socially and psychologically healthy relationship with mortality than most of us are used to
Hi Ant - thanks for stopping by. So, wow, yes, I guess it is a nostalgia for the future, a longing for something that won't ever be, or the absence of the future? I love this idea. 💙
Thanks Ant. The beauty of the word and the felt sense it conjured up really struck me. I am glad you also heard that programme. It also reminded me of a paper by Jung (I think) about home, and talking about (?)unheimleich - or something similar. Meaning the sense of slight disconnect or weirdness of the apparently familiar environment. And yes, I cerainly agree that many cultures appear to have a richer and healthier relationship with mortality.
Dear Di - thank you for stopping by and reading this letter and for your 'splattering' of words which I always love to read! I love that you brought in the idea of the loss of the possibility of an imagined future. I think I feel that for me too - that there will be an end for me and an end to whatever future might have been beyond my death. I have always been intrigued by immortality and would choose it, if I could. Thanks for sharing about your garden and the pleasure it gifts you, as well as the opportunity to connect with your grandchildren. Lost of love. 💙
KK I can relate to your sentiments with my recent reflection of losses in my life, the more obvious losses being my mother in 2018, and my sister in 2022 as well as the losses I’ve experienced in moving overseas. The close relationships that have become distant, the remoteness from English family, and the loss of my beautiful London home. Of course my move was made for the best of reasons, but the feeling of loss remains for some time. Wishing you and Henri love and light.
Dear Barrie, thanks for stopping by and reading this letter. So many losses for you in a short period of time. How long does the feeling of loss last? Forever? Do we hold that loss inside us. Maybe we do? Is it painful but also beautiful as it holds special memories for us? It's interesting how we hold so much complexity. Lots of love, dear friend. 💙
Dear Joy -- thank you so much for stopping by and reading this letter. How lovely to see your name here! Thank you for your love and light. I hope you are well and writing and loving and sharing your bright light too. Love of love. 💙
What a lovely piece. Our dear Maggie died 2.5 years ago, and we are still sad.
I view my legacy as ripples. I've helped patients and families through some tough times and often made it easier or more pleasant, helped them understand or cope, and that is like throwing a stone into a pond. Those ripples will go out and meet with other ripples and interact, and how long the ripples last, how far they spread, what shores they splash against, is all unknown and unknowable but real and important.
I have an adjacent problem which I can recognize as incorrect thinking, but which still gives me plenty of feels. I worry that despite my goals and wholehearted attempts to make those around me suffer less that perhaps I am not as effective as I hope, perhaps I am inadvertently, through this mistake or that lack of discernment or whatever increasing suffering. I do not have any doubts that there are small but real effects from my actions; I worry about their net effect.
I imagine myself part of a huge web, each of us pulling on the strings we have access to to whatever tension seems best. Or with my arms upraised along with everyone else, holding up the sky, some days I don't even touch it and some days my muscles are tired. And this feels like a legacy to me, the same kind of legacy we all leave. But am I pulling skillfully on the strings? Have I not been paying enough attention and I'm pulling too hard on some strings or missed others altogether?
Hello dear Mary -- I'm so sorry I missed your message here. The sadness lasts, I hear that. Sweet Maggie. I think the ripple effect is true. But, I guess, we don't really control how those ripples will reach others. They may help; they may hinder. We can only do our best and I think we probably need to keep doing some reality checking along the way? As for pulling on the strings - another gorgeous metaphor! - practice and self knowledge can help us get better at that. I'm now thinking about the times I may have made increased suffering. I think I'm getting better, kinder, more discerning. I'll keep working on that. 💙
A beautiful picture of you and Henri. So much of what you bravely say, resonates KK. Thank you for writing this. I believe in the legacy of the heart. I believe we absorb and integrate both the beauty and pain from our closest companions - it could be a child, or a dog, or a very dear friend, or elements from each and this combines in our hearts and psyche and becomes us and so too we pass ourselves on through our closest relationships and this is true legacy - the heart grants probate, if you will. I too, have a beautiful German Shepherd called Lupa, and, I too, wrestled with the pup/no pups but now I just soak up all she offers me unreservedly. x
Dear Rochelle, thank you for stopping by and reading this letter! I love what you say here about absorbing and integrating the beauty and pain and elemental parts of our loved ones. This resonates strongly with me. There is truth in what you say. And I am so pleased to learn about Lupa! Awww sending a big hug to your gorgeous girl. I too will soak up Henrietta's offerings which are, as Lupa must prove over and over too, abundant! Lots of love. 💙
It felt a privilege to be invited into this tender space with you and Henrietta, KK. As humans we often think it’s us who choose our pet-companions, but I’m more and more convinced it’s they who choose us—climbing into our hearts, taking us to the most vulnerable parts of life and self we’d otherwise never visit. Gorgeous picture of you both 🤗
Oh, Helen - I love the idea of Henrietta having chosen me! Big smile on my face! Love love love this! Thank you so much for stopping by to read and write to me. Lots of love. 💙
This is very moving, KK. And I think that stranger was right about a dog’s love. When my first dog died I grieved much more openly than I did for my parents. My therapist told me that Buddhists say dogs are here to teach us how to love and live. They allow us to be real and uncomplicated. So I think Henri is allowing you to process things that are more complex in human relationships - even in the relationship we have with ourselves. I am glad the op went well. xx
Dear Anna, thank you so much for visiting here and for your comment. I love the Buddhist idea that dogs are here to teach us how to love and live. Thanks for sharing that. I do feel that I've been radically transformed by my companionship with Henri - and continue to be so every day. I've had dogs in the past but I think with Henri - and I guess because of being in midlife - I have opened myself up in a way I never had before - spiritually - and this has made all the difference. Thanks for sharing about your grief - it's like your dog was grief's midwife? That's such a powerful and generous role. Lots of love. 💙
This is beautiful KK. I love the depth and heart of it. And what a beautiful photo of you and Henrietta. She is a beauty. I think a lot of humanity holds a preoccupation with death. How different life could be if we truly embraced the moment we are in. Thank you for your presence in this piece.
Dear Lynette - thank you for visiting here and for your comment. I must admit I do mostly live in the future, which is weird because that is impossible. How different could life be if we truly embraced the moment we are in? I keep trying, keep bringing myself back, pulling my soul back from the future. I'm like Sisyphus in reverse - or something like that. Love of love. 💙
dear KK and all. my feelings about legacy are a mixed bag. long ago i chose to be child-free and have never regretted that choice. so i am aware that objects that have been in my family for only two generations (due to the genocide of the second world war) will find a way in the world that i won't know. my deeper question about legacy is about ego. is it what i regard as the most superficial part of who i am that wants to be 'remembered'? millions, trillions of people have died since human life on earth began. do we have a legacy from them? what is it that i actually want to be remembered? the 'things' are less important to me than my values. the next generation of my blood family, niece and nephew, already know my values and have taken what is valuable to them from my life. i want no more. yes, the candelabra that was my mother's will find a new home after my death. it is an object, a thing. it is not my legacy.
Dear Felice, thank you for stopping by and for reading. Your thoughts here are helpful. I love the idea of letting go of ego, gifting values to the next generation and letting the candelabra find its own new home. As for the trillions of people who have died before us - I have always been curious about them. When I studied history at school, I was obsessed by all the names and lives of those who never made it into the history books. How did they live? What became of them? How can there be no trace of them? I guess, even by thinking about them, I felt I sort kept an imaginary candle lit for them, the faintest memory that they had lived. Thank you for writing here, Felice. Lots of love. 💙
Thank you, it was sad yet beautiful to read. In recent years I want to hold the idea that we all made out of energy and we're interconnected- nothing can be created or destroyed.., according the 1st law of energy. It helps me sometimes..
Dear Jazz, thank you for stopping by and reading and commenting. I love what you say about interconnectedness. I think Rochelle, below, has a similar sense. Do you feel our energy then continues in some form - forever? 💙
I understand that this is how I feel and others may think differently. There are so many things we don't understand or have been taught to think in certain ways.. Recently, I've been meditating about how much we've been conditioned to perceive death as a frightening and negative human experience, also as the end of our existence.. What if it is not?
Totally resonates with me too (not the dog part, I had no issues with neutering both dog and cat, maybe it’s easier with boys?). I also chose not to have children (I suppose I still have 1-2 years to change my mind), and often wonder if that feeds into my death anxiety. Which btw was helped so much by your Stoics writing course ❤️❤️ I think this is part of what compels me to write, but perhaps not the best of reasons.
Dear Rachel, lovely to see you here. Thanks for bringing up the idea of childlessness and death anxiety - I too will think about that a little more. I was listening to someone on the radio today who was talking about memorabilia and items of clothing which she was excited to share with her children. And I felt the slightest, faintest discomfort - but I'm not sure what that was - death anxiety or something else going on. Thanks for sharing your thoughts here. Lots of love. 💙
Thank you for this heartfelt, honest piece,KK. I envy your close bond with Henri. I’ve always been frightened of dogs and they can feel my nervousness. I wish it weren’t that way. X
Dear Emma - thank you for visiting here. I'd like to think that Henri would make you feel safe. We send you loving vibes. Thank you so much reading and for your comment here. Lots of love. 💙
KK, my dear...reading your lines here in a café in Nantes, and I do my best to keep the flood gates closed. Oh, how this resonates! Henritta & you will always be remembered for how you've made people feel. Now that is a wonderful legacy to leave behind! :) x
Dear DD, I can imagine you teary-eyed in a Nantes cafe. Thank you for stopping by and taking a few moments to read and comment. Lots of love. 💙
Hi KK! As always, your words are elegant and hearfelt. I wonder if the "genetic memory" is as important as other forms of memory - such as a leaving a legacy of wisdom or kindness. Your genetic wisdom exists within your fur baby, in the words you share, and in the touch you extended to a woman who could not bear to share her pain - but she knew you saw her.
"Leaving a legacy of wisdom or kindness." I love that, and that is what I shall focus on. Thanks, as always, for stopping by and reading. Lots of love. 💙
I can relate. I occasionally feel I am at the end of the line of a lot of memories. My sons don’t live in this country, my daughters are not really interested. I often think of what will happen to things (that have been with my family for generations), then I remember that once I am gone it won’t matter any more. I enjoy their presence in the present. Will I live beyond life? Will people remember me once I am gone? I hope so, occasionally the thought fill me with sadness but, when I think about it, once I am gone I am gone.
Koehelet (the Ecclesiastes in the Christian tradition) says that we live as long as our memory is alive, as long as somebody mentions our name or remembers us. Those are the days of the world, and the days of the world cannot be counted. Who will remember me? I have no way of knowing for certain. I try to leave in the present and the near future. There are too many things I want to do, places to see, music to listen to, and books to read.
Dear Silvano, thank you for stopping by and reading and for your comment here. It's true, we have no way of knowing who will remember us. I like your focus on the present and near future. And I enjoyed reading your response to this over on your Substack too. Lots of love, my friend. 💙
thanks for sharing this deep sorrow and the pondering that comes with the big waves of emotion. i can imagine a lot of stories for this particular sorrow, one of course being adaptive. if we don't long to see life continue, we may not allow life to continue. i can also see a lot of other stories, facing the question of her death and yours, as you said, of the stories of life after someone else's life, our own life, the essence of meaning, who are we to each other, and oh how we ache at the thought of them leaving us. and sometimes there are just no stories that can do justice to a feeling that is so deep, all we can do is ride it out or share it with a friend and see how we might ride it out together. big hugs and so happy that your gorgeous pup is back with you now <3
Dear Tara - thank you for stopping by and reading this letter and for your thoughts here. I love how you argue for the necessity of longing in the continuation of life. I wonder what life would be like if we didn't long for its continuation? I guess Buddhist and Stoic traditions (and other traditions too) hold the desire for continuity with detachment. Does detachment simply remove the suffering that comes with longing? Love how you articulate such complexity in your response. Thank you. I'll be pondering your thoughts. Love of love. 💙
KK thank you for your words. Forgive my splattering of words as I attempt to address aspects that resonate with me. First of all, what a privilege that Henri has opened such a precious series of thoughts. I once owned a dog for a while, in a marriage episode, and the dog had to be re-housed. My mother had always suggested that owning a dog was a good idea "because you get too attached"..Reading through an anthropology lecture notebook earlier today I encountered rituals amongst some indigenous peoples (first nationals) in Alaska. Involvement of whales and whale dancing was an important element of this, as was singing, all in the community. Perhaps community is an important element of this; your connection with the old woman for instance. Listening to R4 recently someone spoke of a Welsh word for (forgive the paraphrase) the loss of 'the possibility of an imagined future', or something similar. That is, when someone dies. For me, who was never someone who imagined myself being a wife or mother, and is mother to two sons and four grandchildren - three grandsons and one granddaughter - I find an enormous pleasure in my new garden, and in talking to my grandchildren about their choices about planting 'an edible fruit tree' in the garden. They have made their choices, a peach, a pear, a vine, and a cherry. For me there is something enormously nurturing in that, and knowing their pleasure in planning this enterprise. Literally, something to nourish heart and the entirety of their beings. I am pleased the op was successful. Wishing Henri a speedy recovery, and sending love to you.
The Welsh word is ‘hiraeth’ - most usually thought of as a longing or nostalgia for the inaccessible - typically the yearning for ‘home’ of emigrants - but it certainly can also apply in the way you you phrased it (I think I heard the same R4 programme) and the word indeed sprang to my mind while reading KK’s piece before I saw this comment, as did the thought of how many cultures appear to have a more socially and psychologically healthy relationship with mortality than most of us are used to
Hi Ant - thanks for stopping by. So, wow, yes, I guess it is a nostalgia for the future, a longing for something that won't ever be, or the absence of the future? I love this idea. 💙
Thanks Ant. The beauty of the word and the felt sense it conjured up really struck me. I am glad you also heard that programme. It also reminded me of a paper by Jung (I think) about home, and talking about (?)unheimleich - or something similar. Meaning the sense of slight disconnect or weirdness of the apparently familiar environment. And yes, I cerainly agree that many cultures appear to have a richer and healthier relationship with mortality.
Dear Di - thank you for stopping by and reading this letter and for your 'splattering' of words which I always love to read! I love that you brought in the idea of the loss of the possibility of an imagined future. I think I feel that for me too - that there will be an end for me and an end to whatever future might have been beyond my death. I have always been intrigued by immortality and would choose it, if I could. Thanks for sharing about your garden and the pleasure it gifts you, as well as the opportunity to connect with your grandchildren. Lost of love. 💙
KK I can relate to your sentiments with my recent reflection of losses in my life, the more obvious losses being my mother in 2018, and my sister in 2022 as well as the losses I’ve experienced in moving overseas. The close relationships that have become distant, the remoteness from English family, and the loss of my beautiful London home. Of course my move was made for the best of reasons, but the feeling of loss remains for some time. Wishing you and Henri love and light.
Dear Barrie, thanks for stopping by and reading this letter. So many losses for you in a short period of time. How long does the feeling of loss last? Forever? Do we hold that loss inside us. Maybe we do? Is it painful but also beautiful as it holds special memories for us? It's interesting how we hold so much complexity. Lots of love, dear friend. 💙
Feelings of someone or a precious one who is near to your heart is understood. I send love and light to you on this day, and every day. Joy
Dear Joy -- thank you so much for stopping by and reading this letter. How lovely to see your name here! Thank you for your love and light. I hope you are well and writing and loving and sharing your bright light too. Love of love. 💙
What a lovely piece. Our dear Maggie died 2.5 years ago, and we are still sad.
I view my legacy as ripples. I've helped patients and families through some tough times and often made it easier or more pleasant, helped them understand or cope, and that is like throwing a stone into a pond. Those ripples will go out and meet with other ripples and interact, and how long the ripples last, how far they spread, what shores they splash against, is all unknown and unknowable but real and important.
I have an adjacent problem which I can recognize as incorrect thinking, but which still gives me plenty of feels. I worry that despite my goals and wholehearted attempts to make those around me suffer less that perhaps I am not as effective as I hope, perhaps I am inadvertently, through this mistake or that lack of discernment or whatever increasing suffering. I do not have any doubts that there are small but real effects from my actions; I worry about their net effect.
I imagine myself part of a huge web, each of us pulling on the strings we have access to to whatever tension seems best. Or with my arms upraised along with everyone else, holding up the sky, some days I don't even touch it and some days my muscles are tired. And this feels like a legacy to me, the same kind of legacy we all leave. But am I pulling skillfully on the strings? Have I not been paying enough attention and I'm pulling too hard on some strings or missed others altogether?
Hello dear Mary -- I'm so sorry I missed your message here. The sadness lasts, I hear that. Sweet Maggie. I think the ripple effect is true. But, I guess, we don't really control how those ripples will reach others. They may help; they may hinder. We can only do our best and I think we probably need to keep doing some reality checking along the way? As for pulling on the strings - another gorgeous metaphor! - practice and self knowledge can help us get better at that. I'm now thinking about the times I may have made increased suffering. I think I'm getting better, kinder, more discerning. I'll keep working on that. 💙
A beautiful picture of you and Henri. So much of what you bravely say, resonates KK. Thank you for writing this. I believe in the legacy of the heart. I believe we absorb and integrate both the beauty and pain from our closest companions - it could be a child, or a dog, or a very dear friend, or elements from each and this combines in our hearts and psyche and becomes us and so too we pass ourselves on through our closest relationships and this is true legacy - the heart grants probate, if you will. I too, have a beautiful German Shepherd called Lupa, and, I too, wrestled with the pup/no pups but now I just soak up all she offers me unreservedly. x
Dear Rochelle, thank you for stopping by and reading this letter! I love what you say here about absorbing and integrating the beauty and pain and elemental parts of our loved ones. This resonates strongly with me. There is truth in what you say. And I am so pleased to learn about Lupa! Awww sending a big hug to your gorgeous girl. I too will soak up Henrietta's offerings which are, as Lupa must prove over and over too, abundant! Lots of love. 💙