That Which is Never Born can Not Die

  I did not know that I was going to write this post until 30 minutes ago after returning from the veterinary clinic because my cat, Padme, stopped eating and was wobbly.  I was given the news that she has end stage renal failure. (Padme had been in renal failure before and bounced back.) She was a bit too quick to say that I could see her one last time and they would euthanize her on the spot, or I could spend the next twenty four hours with her and bring her in tomorrow to be euthanized. It was said, I thought, a little too cavalier.  Also, she said how cats are good at "hiding" their discomfort.  I'm thinking, "Do cats do the hiding or do humans do the hiding of difficult emotions around death?"  Cats are more instinctual than humans.  Maybe cats have something to "show" the humans who "hide". In any event, Padme is back home with me and we are here for her death march.  I want to be the best attendant to her as I can be.  She will show me the way through the dying process.  She is not the first cat to show me the way. This is an intimate sacred time together. Let me honor her with the little time left.  I will not drop her off at the vet tomorrow. 

     Each night she has still gone out for her evening rounds. She still enjoys a nice cuddle on the sofa. Is she hiding her pain for my sake?  I think not.  She knows something is not right.  Most of the day she remains quiet and napping. What else can she do this close to death's door?

     The teachings of yoga remind us that everything in this physical existence is all temporary.  Death of the body is the hardest possession to release.  As Padme is in stillness I wonder if she is allowing the releasing of her physical self. No resistance, no demonstrations. Just quiet being. I am the one protesting, checking on her not wanting to believe I am going to lose this furry family member in days or longer.

     That which is never born, can not die.  This is an important contemplation at this time.  As Padme is quiet, I am reminded of when I have slipped into deep meditations when my sense of physical being gets faint and I remember how peaceful it is in that state.  The teachings of yoga describe a state of samadhi when the sense of physical being totally vanishes and you enter into a state of inner luminosity and joy. (Could this samadhi be instinctual for animals at the time of death?) It is this state in samadhi that is said to represent your true essence of that which never was born nor dies. This would be the state that I would want to enter for my physical exit. 

    Namaste, Padme.  The deepest essence in me honors the deepest essence in you. Death will not part us.