It Is Hard To Fathom

Luna lays on her right side across the bed and makes low snoring sounds. Since the trusted Sasha passed away suddenly Luna is a different dog.  A call to the breeder offered affirmation that dogs do grieve. When we buried Sasha in the northwest corner of mom’s garden we covered her with straw, she was wrapped in the blanket the vet had put her in and we sprinkled flowers over her before folding her into the ground. We sat on the deck, the grave diggers and genuine fans of the sharp dog with the keen ears and intense eyes. Luna was seen wandering around the freshly fashioned resting place.Sometimes it is hard to fathom, in any sense of the phrase, the meaning of life. What are we doing here? I do believe in a Universal Power, a benevolent God. I pray. Still, there are questions. What does it mean this life experience? To know you exist at this moment but will not at some point in the future. To not ever know when that day will come when you cease to exist or when it will come for anyone else and yet to go on living day to day, making plans thinking about your aspirations as many of us do.  Is it to pass the time?  We have an energy, a drive to do something.  Our time is filled with the drive to survive.  It can be overwhelming.Morning time is not my very best time of day although the blue sky helps immensely. I aspire to quiet the mind as it rattles around wondering about the future. I want to roll up in the covers and hide from life.  I truly do.     Written 9/23/09