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I had never seen death happening until the day one of my cats died. She suffered from a chronic kidney condition which made her life gradually become a heavy burden for her. When she was no longer able to use the sand box appropriately nor eat, she no longer interacted much with us or the other cats, the vet warned us she would not get any better and suffering would increase, so helping her pass would be a wise and compassionate decision.

On a Saturday morning we took a cab holding Ana in her carrier and trying hard to keep our hearts whole and in peace.

She was quiet and peaceful all the way there and even when we were finally in the clinic, holding her in our arms and talking to the vet to make sure that was it. We also made sure she felt Love flooding from our hearts her way.

The vet separated the material she needed to give Ana the injection. Filled with care and respect to that living being, she started the process.

When the first milligrams of anestesia went through the IV catheter I leaned toward Ana and looked into her eyes. Suddenly they went empty. There was no life in that body. Ana was gone.

All my readings and meditation, all my thoughts and inquiries concerning death suddenly came together in my heart, making sense—a little, at least.

Souls are free. They are energy; they are vibration. They populate a body and become a certain shape, but they themselves are amorphous, light, and fluid. Souls are divine; they are the source: pure love. While I saw something happen in those eyes; while I dove into the blackness of her pupils I could see Ana fly away and leave the body. That was when I felt death—not sure yet how little I understood it. It was strong.

I had never seen it happen; I had never seen death itself. But now that I did, now that I actually saw how the eyes are windows to the soul, one thing is clear: we become fragmented, we split the moment we take a certain shape. Throughout life, as we try to fit this and that position and meet patterns, we shatter. Then we try to find and put smithereens together, not knowing they never fall far from us; they are inside. When we die, we become whole again.

Souls are beings. Bodies are (e)states. Death is transition.

While we root ourselves through consciousness—meditation gives us those roots and the deeper they go the higher we grow—, Love gives us wings, and it is through Love that we reunite with the divine and we are able to leave the shape and be essence. It is through Love that we know the truth and get rid of the ego, the layers distancing our souls from the world. Through Love we live reality. Love is God, God is freedom, our wings to fly. Where there is Love there is no fear but rather freedom.

We die. We frequently die, whenever we are able to flee the shape and be real, whole. And that was how I saw death as an action which is part of the process Life. My mind might try to find Ana in that spot she spent most of her last days on Earth, but my heart knows she was more than that shape materially present in my life. She is much more than Ana.

May that soul be peaceful in the light.
Akaal

Om Shanti

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