Prior to preparing for my morning’s errands, I journaled on my couch, under cozy blankets. I had the feeling emerge of missing my dogs, who laid next to me and kept my company for a span of 18 years. Their absence and the silence in the home is heavy, and has taken time to adjust to.
I opted to watch several videos I saved on my phone during the pandemic of these two special fur beings. The videos that I was seeking were not special outings to elaborate places or times I dressed my dogs in hilarious clothes. What I searched for today were videos of them just napping on blankets in the sun or in between my legs on the same couch I was sitting on now. I had a video of Bella grooming her, brother Puzo, offering motherly love as she licked and cleaned his eyelids and ears. It was the hours of down time we spent cuddling that I miss the most. In those small moments, years of love have been built.
Today was the first day I didn’t cry since Bella died over 6 weeks ago, when watching images of her and Puzo. I was able to extend and appreciate the warmth of those moments now. I couldn’t help but wonder did I offer them enough love while they were here? Did I show appreciation for the loyal beingness in my life? Did they know how much they meant to me? But I calmed down my grieving heart, and knew by the way they would gaze at me, they appreciated all I shared. They loved the trips we explored, the walks we went on, the countries we lived in, the treats I gave them. But what I think they loved the most was the small moments we spent on the couch, sleeping, dreaming, and napping in the sun.
For the past several years, my number one value was my dog Bella. Ever since my other dog Puzo died at 15 years, she was my priority. We spent two years living the retired life together in France and Spain. Bella accompanied me on my lap in cafes, bars, and the parks. When her legs and paws became tired, I carried her like a baby, to ensure she had prime sunshine on her face. In the past year, when I had to return to work, I purchased a condo five minutes from work in order to maximize time with her. My lunch breaks I rushed home to take her out, eat with her, and return home to go on leisurely walks on the beach, ports, or her the local pet shop. When I had dates or visited with friends, I often asked if Bella could accompany us. I included Bella wherever possible in numerous facets of my life.
And now she’s gone. Nearly 16 years to the day we found each other in a California park near sunset, she left this earth. I’ve been a pet mom for 18 years, placing their lives as my number one value as I navigated relationships, jobs, and moves. We moved back and forth to California several times, including extended time in Hawaii, the United Kingdom, Paris, and Spain. As I accepted work positions, there was no question if they would be with me. Their presence was a solid yes.
The question that arises now that her and Puzo are gone, is what are my values at this point? How will I make the choices in my life now that my fur companions are gone? What will be number one at this time in my life?
Oftentimes there’s a dramatic shift in our life that occurs: a death, relationship ending, graduation, health crisis, monumental birthday, or job loss. We are left with the question, now that this identity is no longer in my life, who am I? How do I want to be? And now the transformative journey begins… I have so much more to share about her impact in my life, but for now with this hole I am curious how to navigate the world without her?
It’s scary, exciting, and nerve wracking. The unknown. It’s life.
My canine companion is turning 16 years old this month. Often after people ask me about her breed and name, I am quick to also respond with her age. As I mouth the words 16, often people are impressed. They may share how old their dogs are, or if they had an elder dog, share stories of the age their dogs lived to. And there’s a moment of connection, we bond over being parents of elderly dogs.
Over the past 2 ½ years, after Puzo (my English Bulldog) died of 15 years, Bella had a difficult time adjusting. Her whole time in this world included him being in it. It was then she began howling if I left the room, because she was alone with no one in her pack. At the time we were living in Paris, and as we both grieved his loss, we would walk two long blocks to the Eiffel Tower to seek comfort in the park and the spectacular beauty of this site.
She began going with me more on first dates, time with friends, mini vacations. We drove from France to Spain, as she sat in my mother’s lap for the entire 17 hour trip. Over time, her age began showing, she no longer could jump on the couch as she used to. She would tire on our walks, and so I would carry her. People ask me often why not take a stroller, but I think she enjoys lying like a baby in my arms, half asleep, taking in the sun.
Since moving back to America this year, Bella has surprised me. She has learned to swim, learned to play a new game with treats, and taken her first selfie. Who says you can’t teach an old dog new tricks? Bella is proof.
(Bella’s First Selfie)
This week, I had leftovers from a New Years Eve meal: Filet Mignon. She devoured pieces of it over a span of three days. Today, my friend and I went to the fancy Rosewood Miramar in Montecito. I served Bella bits of cerviche. Yes, she is spoiled, but doesn’t a 16 year old deserve this?
Two women visiting from out of state chatted with us as we left the outdoor restaurant. They noticed the satisfaction in Bella’s face. My friend was quick to offer that Bella has had a good life, the best life. And I couldn’t agree more. 16 years ago I found her stray in Santa Barbara county, and she joined me as we moved to Hawaii, LA, England, Paris, Spain, and back to California. People often ask where did she enjoy the best, but where she loves most I realize is anywhere that I am with more time off, and moments to sleep in the sun.
With that I offer a Cheers to Bella- my 16 year old chug (or puguaua) bundle of joy. And if you have a dog too, cheers to your companion and witness to the journey of your life
As a devotee of romcoms, it seems the world is framed that the potential of romantic love is always a possibility. Fairytales mold young girls to feel as if their lives are not complete without their knight in shining armors. And so it’s easy to be feel one is always on the hunt for their other half, and as we go out and about in the world we are programmed to seek couples who exemplify this idealized standard. When we don’t find it, a sense of dissatisfaction and incompleteness can arise.
On this Saturday morning, at a chill café in Los Feliz, I did spot a handful of couples. But what I saw exemplified love to a greater intensity. It was not the cutesy couples kissing in a corner I saw. What I witnessed were tables of friendships, groups of men or groups of women meeting up to share their week’s joys, struggles, laughter, goals. And I realized this was who the majority of the customers were on a Saturday morning. This was real love. Love that is loyal, consistent, stable, kind, non-contingent, and long lasting. Friendship love.
So often we are in search of the essence of something that we may already have. Instead of worrying where one may find love, why not be love, or reside in love that is in one’s atmosphere? This could be one’s family, friends, or even pets.
As I write this, I am aware it seems Pollyanna-ish. Yet love is already all around. We may not label these interactions and relationships as such, but it offers the same warm feeling of being cared for and offers a sense of belonging. Love is a verb. Love is an action. It is not an elusive thing to grasp, and therein lies the problem. How we believe we should perceive and experience it. At the moment, we may view ourselves as lonely, but ultimately that is a choice in perception. Allow oneself to experience and feel all the way love shows up in your life this weekend. Then note how you feel. Instead of the sense of seeking, there may lie within a sense of satisfaction.
“Ultimately the bond of all companionship, whether in marriage or in friendship, is conversation.” — Oscar Wilde
There is an ancient zen myth, which discusses a farmer who has a series of fortunate and unfortunate events that arise throughout his life. Although the farmer does not judge these events, the neighbors do. They are quick to label the events as good luck or bad luck, the farmer always responds with the phrase: “bad luck, good luck, who knows?”
Oftentimes we are quick to judge when things happen if we are having a good or bad day, how the rest of the day will play out. We want to be like the neighbor and label it. But it’s important to not have judgmental thoughts of what is out there. These thoughts can become self-fulfilling prophecies, which is great if things are going well but can be a downward spiral if they are not.
This was the case last week when I awoke. I had a flight from Santa Barbara, I had a leisurely morning waking up an hour later than my usual work day: 545 am. My 15 ½ year old dog Bella was slightly overworked with her cough, I think her psychic abilities knew I was leaving. But I was able to calm her down. We both were relaxed, and I generally don’t check my messages before my spiritual practice is over, but this time I did. My dog sitter sent a message at 5am. She would not be able to be at her home on time, requesting I drop off my dog an hour later. This would have made me a bit late to the airport. It was 645 am. I started to freak out sending her several messages, but opted to call her to see if I could drop her off now. It was then 7am. I got to the house at 710, after a man was honking at me that I was in his parking spot. I reparked the car, yelling “I’m just going to be one minute,” dropped off Bella, and I found out her son would have left the house at 715. I went back home, showered, and went to my pending doctor’s appointment. I realized that since I didn’t have Bella, I didn’t have to run back home and would have an hour to spare in Santa Barbara before needing to get to the airport. Throughout the morning, it flowed like this. Something that could have been bad to something that balanced it out. I understood that life fluctuates like this. It’s not good, nor bad. It is. Could I go with the flow of what the world was giving me without labeling it?
And because I was able to, life continued to offer me the vissisitudes of the day. I could appreciate all that it was. Bad luck, good luck, who knows?
If you want to read a deeper version of the zen myth, check out this link below.
Little do we know the impact we make on each other. This was the case yesterday, when I returned home from an event. Generally when I return home, my 15 ½ year old Bella is asleep in her dog bed. It’s a cozy nook that has a good view of the front door and most of the house. But when I came home yesterday, she wasn’t there, I looked next into my bedroom, where I had placed a new dog bed for her. She wasn’t there either. Automatically I worried, don’t pets hide when it is their time to die? Bella was 15 ½ years old, and I worried if her time neared. I was relieved as I entered the guest room and found her in an unusual spot.
Amidst my carry on luggage I had just emptied out, with clothes and yarn sprawled on the floor, she was there, laying on top of it. Wanting to be close to my scent, even though I only left two hours prior. It was such a precious moment, and a reminder how often we take those moments for granted.
Earlier I admit I was disappointed, it was my first sound bath I held that nobody attended. I tried to make the most of it, but couldn’t help but having a chatter of negative thoughts emerge, that I repivoted. When we host events and nobody comes, oftentimes we begin to question numerous things: our advertisement, location, time of day, time of year, our skills, and ourselves. But when I entered my home, all of that was paused as I saw Bella cozy in my atmosphere. In a world that can be harsh, there is a soft landing that reminds us that beings do care.
There is power and beauty in the adage that a dog is a man’s best friend. Through financial ups and downs, moves, job shifts, relationship shifts, weight gains and losses, and fads, it is pets that are our consistency. We take that for granted, but how sweet it is after a difficult day to see that a being is waiting for you and longing to be close to even your scent? It made me pause my heart and send appreciation for the kind gentle soul she is. And a reminder to be appreciative of all beings that are in our lives.
Yesterday, as I was walking my dog, I saw a stray petit black dog. Automatically I was worried. He had no collar and looked familiar, he looked like another neighbor’s dog. The dog was located next to the house of a family who recently vacated the building. I had heard horror stories about the family, who took the week to move out, and carelessly left belongings in the front and back of the home. Did they leave their dog? These were both black small dogs, would they have dared to leave him? I have heard stories of people leaving their dogs leashed or unleashed when they move from homes, so the dogs would not find them, and the family could have a fresh start sans animal. I was hoping it wasn’t the case.
Outside of a hello, I rarely talk to my neighbors, but I found myself purposefully asking neighbors closeby “was this the previous neighbors’ dog?” Both individuals I asked said no, stating this dog belonged to someone several blocks away. One of these neighbors said she would walk the little black dog back home. She had once found this same dog, and he escorted her to where he lived. What an intelligent little thing, but why would owners let them loose on streets that could get busy at times? She tried to nudge the little young black dog home, but he was playing with my older dog. He was following us to my home, and to help the neighbor out, we all walked several blocks, and escorted this dog to his rightful home. We found out he was a three year old boy named Scotty, whose owner was searching for him that afternoon.
I had only met this elderly neighbor once. She introduced herself (Rosie) and her dog (Phoebe), when we moved into the neighborhood. She has had her dog, which is a terrier mix, for three years. She had found her in the recycling bin years ago, right behind the condo complex. Phoebe was difficult to get out of the bin, because she kept biting hands that were trying to save her out of fear. With multiple attempts and the assistance of her adult children, they got Phoebe out of the recycling bin. They cleaned her up and created signs for those who may be missing a dog, nobody claimed her. Rosie realized that Phoebe may have been the pet of a homeless person, as the dog had a strong digestive issue, which appeared to be from drinking contaminated water. Despite this, they fell in love with her and Phoebe has been in Rosie’s home for years.
Morale beauty is an aspect of awe which occurs when we witness or observe acts of kindness, courage, or strength in other humans that bring a sense of amazement and wonder to us. I couldn’t help but feel this way for Rosie, who in small moments offers her kindness to these pets who enter her life. I’ve only interacted with her twice, and both times have amazed me. As we walked little Scotty home, I couldn’t help but think this is what true neighbors did back in the day. This is what community is, we offer support and watch to each other, and our pets.
Who in your life brings a sense of awe for the morale beauty they exhibit? How can you offer kindness to a neighbor? Morale beauty isn’t always recognized on the news or talk shows, but it exists all around us if we have the space to look.
Thanks Rosie for the kindness you offer to our neighborhood, and the pets that enter our lives.
This past week, when having a farewell coffee meetup with a friend, she said to me that this return home would be a pilgrimage. Although I have visited America nearly annually, I haven’t lived here in 10 ½ years. Those words “it’s a pilgrimage” repeated with me over the past 20 hour voyage home.
I’ve been prepping to move back for nearly six months in some ways, and everyone has been asking me “how are you feeling?” In truth, so many emotions, but the final months with non-stop international and Spanish travel, visitors, or packing, I haven’t been able to process. I can only be present to the next task ahead of me.
“Life is like driving in the dark. Your headlights show you the 200 feet in front of you and as you move forward, the next 200 feet are shown to you. You don’t need to see the entire path in order to reach your destination.”-Jack Canfield
On one of my last nights, as I lied in bed prepping to sleep, my thoughts began to ruminate over what all had to be done and I realized in that moment I had a choice. I was making an international move with a pet, buying a condo, starting a new job, and shipping belongings. I could choose anxiety and restless sleep or know that everything was already working out. My question became, “why wouldn’t it work out?” All was unfolding and being divinely guided, I just had to trust and focus on the next task at hand. Don’t focus on the larger picture but the next thing that was being asked from me.
My friend Isabella reminded me I was fortunate enough to not be alone. She was right, as both her and my mother would be present to help make this journey possible. I ordered a van from Uber the day prior, hoping it would fit the three of us and Bella and all of our luggages. We each had two check-in luggages, a carry on and personal item. And it did. As we made the Uber ride, I realized my carry on and personal item were over stuffed and I should pay additional money for my carry on, and buy another carry on to distribute the weight. I hoped in the van ride it would be comped, but was willing to pay. Upon reaching the counter to check in at the gate, I informed the staff member of my luggage predicament. She looked at me, my belongings, and Bella in my backpack. She told me this would be too expensive, and she grabbed the credit card machine. “240 euros,” she said . She then proceeded to say, “I’m doing this for the dog.” It was comped! She happened to be a fellow dog owner, and had empathy for us. Perhaps she knew flying with a pet internationally was massive work.
With each little step, I repeated gratitude verbally and internally, like a mantra. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.” Everything was working out. I definitely had to have a “pilgrimage” mindset during this. For a short amount of time, physically and energetically I would have to be managing a lot. But I could do this. I could harness my internal wonder woman as I embarked on this journey. Having actually done the camino was helpful. I reflected on the state I was in for those specified days. I questioned at times what the heck I was doing walking so many kilometers, remind myself of the intention, and the fact that so many have walked that path before. I also knew it was temporary and that magical things could happen to assist all peregrinos. And so these flights would be a different camino. It was fitting that the first film I watched on the extended journey would be The Camino, a Danish film that came out this past year. https://www.imdb.com/title/tt24177444/
I heard a quote once that “it ends as it begins.” And I thought of this as we flew from Malaga to Paris in the 2 hour journey, the city I lived in last year. In the three hour layover, I felt horrible for Bella as there were no pet relief areas. My mom bought her the cutest diaper skirt and diapers for the journey. I walked her during this break, she lifted her leg and half peed in the diaper and a wall. I grateful to have Isabella and my mom to assist me as I cleaned it up, and Bella made her own makeshift pet relief area. I was so surprised and grateful that Bella had no accidents on the 10 ½ hour flight from Paris to Los Angeles.
There was more relief and gratitude as my brother picked us up from LAX in a SUV, and had Filipino food waiting to feed us. His girlfriend had spent days cleaning the house in preparation. And we could finally breathe and rest.
In the past, embarking on a pilgrimage like this would have been overwhelming. I would have somaticized the pain, cried at various stressful trigger points, and had ruminating thoughts of anxiety. This is all okay if these emotions arise, I once did this. But for some reason this move was different. I was present to what was at hand, had assistance from friends and family. It could have been the frame of mind I was in, the pilgrimages I’ve done, or the hundreds of hours of meditation practice I have done over the years. Perhaps it’s in these moments that the results of accumulated practice are culminated. Calm surrender and trust that the Universe, our guides, God, strangers, and the path are all supporting you on this pilgrimage of life. And with that all, thank you for everyone who has supported me on this journey.
I have to admit cleaning is not my favorite activity. I’ve dreaded this over the years, and it stemmed from parents who also hated cleaning. But it’s a necessity of life, and I have learned to pair it with something I enjoy. Lattes! Oftentimes, I will reward myself for doing mundane duties with a large caramel machiatto from Starbucks. I definitely appreciate the local cafes, and lounging in cafes for hours as I write. This happens often during the week, as I meet with acquaintances or friends. But I admit, Starbucks lattes in my take-away cups are quite large and take me a long time to drink. Therefore, the pleasure can last for even more hours as I take it home and engage in such tasks as laundry, dusting, and scrubbing.
When I lived in Paris last year, I had to go to the laundromat to deal with my dirty clothes on a bi-weekly basis. I carried my laundry one block in a rollie bag and large laundry sack. As I waited for these clothes to wash. Starbucks time. And as I write this: one friend has left my home after visiting for 10 days and it’s my time to clean the sheets and the house before the next one visits for 10 days… Well it’s Starbucks time.
This act is more than a reward, it’s a form of self-compassion and kindness. It’s as if I am giving myself a gold star for doing my homework and can redeem several stars for one treat. I am the student and the teacher in this scenario. I do the hard work but also give out the reward. It’s served me well the past several years. It may seem ridiculous, but it’s worked.
Bella sits on my lap as we lounge upstairs overlooking the fountain in Plaza de Constitution in Malaga. The breeze comes in, music plays, tourist pop in and out. And I know these moments of tranquil writing time and caffeine will feed the hours of cleaning that will proceed this afternoon and evening.
How do you reward yourself for the tiny chores that you do in your daily life?
I pilgrimaged to the Black Madonna in Einsiedeln today. I originally was travelling to Zurich in order to visit the small country of Lichtenstein. Then, I realized, there was a Black Madonna here that Carl Jung previously visited and wrote about. It was the Black Madonna that was closest in distance to him, and therefore he wrote about Her. Upon hearing this, I knew where my next pilgrimage would be to. But the journey actually began the week prior.
I had just returned home from a group pilgrimage to the Black Madonna in Italy. I had messaged to confirm with someone I hired from an online app in regards to my dog’s upcoming stay with her. But she cancelled last minute. I struggled to find a new sitter during the height of summer, searching both online and in person. I made numerous requests, including to a friend that lived in Paris who I offered to fly out to Spain. Eventually, prayers were answered. Someone who attended my sound healing class, Manuella, offered to watch Bella. Hearing this meant the world to me.
In this moment, I noted this is where I need to invest in community. I realize being somewhat nomadic, I develop loads of acquaintances but minimal friends. What I truly need at times like these are friends, and having someone offer was so heartfelt. Manuella had come to multiple sound baths, and felt various forms of healing that occurred from then. Although she didn’t state this, I felt she actually was paying back the favor in watching Bella. She was just driving back from France, her home country, the same day I dropped off Bella. Words couldn’t describe how precious and impactful this was. I realized this dog sitting component and numerous other factors all lined up for this to happen. The ease of the train ride, having an entire row to myself on the plane, waking up to my lipstick on my hand in the shape of a heart, having free wifi (since my mobile network isn’t functioning), and the ability to feel safe in a foreign land like Switzerland.
My pilgrimage to Einsiedeln may have been one day long but included walks, a plane ride, and train rides (one that had three transfers). I got minimal sleep due to an early flight, late dog drop off the night prior, and a bit of travel stress that prevented me from falling asleep promptly. On an extended train layover, I opted to get a pretzel baguette filled with curry falafel. The concept of this meal didn’t make sense, numerous cultures hodgepodged together in one sandwich. I hopped on the train and ate this delicious cultural mystery. It was so tasty, and now I had the souvenir of the curry smell all over me.
As I arrived in Einsiedeln, I wasn’t exactly sure how to get to the Abbey. I stepped off the train, walked into the quaint picturesque Swiss town and stumbled into a hiking clothing store. The worker greeted me in German, and I showed her a screenshot I took of the Einsiedeln Abbey. “How do I get here?” I asked. I spoke no German, she walked outside with me to show me where to go so I wouldn’t be confused. I was curious how far would this be. She pointed left and she said, “It’s easy, easy, easy. You walk 1 ½ minutes and you are right there.” I laughed. It wasn’t what I expected. Why step out of the store to show me the directions of where to walk for a 1 minute journey? But I deeply appreciated it. It was as if she was a guide who magically appeared reminding me, “You are almost there” or “It’s only as hard as you make it out to be.”
I finally arrived at the Abbey. The smell of flowers in a mini casita that surrounded her was poignant. The excess of flowers and Her gorgeous sparkly blue gown must have been from the Assumption only one week before. It was apparent that I must have really smelled like curry, which was juxtaposed to the heavenly floral scent. I kneeled in front of the Black Madonna, felt welcomed curry and all, and I cried. I internally heard her say to me, “It’s okay. You can relax now.”
I don’t know if this “relax” statement was in regards to the numerous modes of transportation I endured for the day, the struggle of finding a sitter for Bella, or for receiving word that I had gotten a new dream job the week prior, the culmination of seeing 7 Black Madonnas the preceeding weeks. The smells of the flowers brought back reminders of the floral scents in wakes and funeral of loved ones I have lost. This Black Madonna was different than others. She had round cheeks, felt sweet, regal, and was inclusive of the knowledge and wisdom that both my Ninang and Lola had, and one day my grandmother, mother, and maybe me. I cried and felt held.
The Black Madonna looked as if she was the Queen of the Sea and the Night, in her flashy blue sparkly dress. Her attire changes dependent on what the staff members choose to dress her in for the occasion. I felt lucky that I was visiting in what seemed to be a celebratory occasion. Time passed as I observed Her, and I felt a tiny tension headache arising. I heard Her say to me, “Take care of yourself and come back. Don’t be greedy, let other people have time with me.” These are words mothers would say, the truth laced with sweet kindness and unconditional love. Take care of my needs, which included drinking water and taking bathroom break, buy some souvenirs and come back. This is what I did.
I am learning to have a different experience with Her this past month. It’s different than the past, of just thinking of problems or things I want when I visit a new church or see another Black Madonna. It’s as if I was putting an order in the universe. Now as I sat in front of her, I tried to listen to my body. How did my body feel in Her presence? What was being said? What images or intuitive hits am I receiving? I generally ensure I sit as close to her as possible, and take time to journal in front of her to note all that is arising.
If I really listened, I began to discern how each Black Madonna has a different feeling. Her facial expressions are different and what She stands for is different. The energy She commands and the people that are devotees of her are all different. But it’s taken solitude and inquiry to explore what is truly arising in this moment.
As I left the church, a little Indian boy grabbed my hand, as I walked past a café. His parents laughed and apologized for him. I am not sure what he saw in me. The gold I wore that was shiny and flashy, something playful in my youthful walk, someone brown in a sea of whiteness therefore I looked familiar. I too laughed it off, but was curious what did he know, what did he see? Maybe he was someone who simply wanted to share his joy for that moment, with a stranger.
I write this now in a café, accessing some free wifi, and another stranger is kind enough to let me use her charger (as I brought the wrong kind). She was Albanian, living in Italy, and staying with her family in Zurich. She offered this, when she saw me struggling trying one usb charger after another on the whole floor of this coffee shop. She said, “we all need to charge our devices.” It was another reminder that we are here to support each other on this journey of life, whether it’s a passing stranger offering a usb, a young boy giving a gentle nudge of the hand, store worker going out of her way to give directions, or an acquaintance offering to watch your dog. Oftentimes we see how we give to the world, but how often do we see how the world gives back to us?
If I continue to have a soft gaze as I interact with the world today, I will notice the grace that arises in my interactions with all that I meet. I will see the connection all of us have, and the longing for something more. There’s a sense of gratitude as I engage with the world, knowing I am supported by the Black Madonna, all travel guides, angels, and the kindness of strangers.
It Only Takes A Smile 