When it comes to healing, we have a lot to learn from the animals. They focus on quickly becoming healthy, not on the difficulties that a disease can bring to them.
I am impressed by how the cells in our bodies are working in a positive way when other cells in the body become sick. The healthy cells rush forward to ask the “question:” what can they do to fix the diseased cells?
Sometimes I visualize during my meditation how my body cells work like ants. The ants are working positively and disciplined in order to achieve a beneficial result.
Animal body-cells work faster and more positively than our human cells. Animals focus only on the desire to quickly recover. They want to return back to a full life. In addition, the animals are very aware of their vulnerability to enemies.
For we humans, it often takes a longer time to recover. Our thoughts and fears siphon off energy bemoaning what we cannot do anymore. We stress ourselves when we become ill and this stress slows our natural healing process.
The animals go into themselves, meditating, resting and only drink to flush their body. They shut the world out and no time exists for them. Our children do the same! I smile when I think of street dogs that have the amazing ability with their unconditional love. Often they come up and ask me how I feel!
When I’m sad, my adopted dogs approach me with their love, they want me to feel better. When I cry, my seven-year daughter Olivia comes up to me and wants to know if it’s joy or sorrow. “Are those sad or happy tears?”
Olivia sits with her iPod and listens to music while she looks at photographs that she photographed on her own. One photograph shows our dog Clyde, a beautiful collie who died a year ago.
“Mom, I am petting Clyde, he likes it,” says Olivia.
My eyes fill with tears, I miss him something terrible even if the house is still full of dogs. Although I’ve been through the death of beloved dogs and euthanized several, both from hospice down in Italy and ill stray dogs, it never gets easier. Each individual has filled my heart with life and wisdom.
Olivia looks up with her big, wise, blue eyes and her little hand presses my hand lightly, “It’s ok mom, you can be sad, but do not let that hold his memory, he doesn’t want that.”
I cry even more but at the same time laugh through the tears. My little Olivia with her wise words. How wonderful that she is not sad, but comforts me — her mom — with words of wisdom.
Olivia loves older dogs and is not afraid that they will go over to the other side sooner than a young dog. Many adults do not want to adopt an older dog because of that very concern: that the dog will leave their life too soon. But for Olivia the time doesn’t exist, only the love.
Sometimes I wonder if we do not suppress our children to decide for them what they can see, feel and hear. Are we projecting our own fears onto the child about death? Do we not admit it, but tell our “protected words” to the children? Making it easy for us to avoid having to deal with our own fears of mortality?
I want to be as our body’s cells, street dogs or my daughter. Being able to love in the present and take different situations and adapt them for the better. As a way of life, not question with all the different questions of life all the time. Well, maybe live with only one question: “What can I do for you? ‘.