Living in the Moment

You may have wondered, or not, why I have been a bit more quiet lately. I wasn't writing much, to be honest. Our kitty Gerry had some health issues and well, life threw us a curve ball. We thought we were taking him into the vet for an abscessed tooth. But the diagnosis came back as squamous cell carcinoma - cancer to sum it up. In his jaw, and advanced. 

I am typically a "glass half-full, let's get it done" type of woman. But to be totally honest, the diagnosis upset me and my husband terribly. I did some research, but after two hours decided I learned all I needed and shut it down. I thought to myself he hadn't read the books on his prognosis, so neither would I. Incidentally I had just gotten the docu-series "The Truth About Pet Cancer". So instead I looked at our options. 

Gerry made it through the surgery fine and was so happy to be home. We are supporting him the best we can. Yes there are treatment protocols like chemo and radiation, even surgery which entails cutting away a third of his jaw. But we considered none of them. Invasive, painful, and he would suffer. We both wanted to give him quality of life that didn't include any of that. A personal decision for sure, and one my vet supported.

It took us a little while to find what foods he wanted, eating with a tender mouth is challenging. We found CBD oil (hemp oil) as an oral supplement but he finally had enough of us trying to give it to him. We found some supplements to really support his immune system even more than we already did. And now we are using a CBD ointment we can put on him topically, and so far he is tolerating it without too much fuss. And yes, I also use essential oils, which he chose. In his case, Plai for pain relief and anti-inflammatory as well as Frankincense (anti-cancer). Both of them we utilize via the inhalation method. We also use Red Light Therapy.

But the one thing I am learning every day - take life as it is. Enjoy the small moments and don't think about what's coming. Because when you do (and I inevitably do even as I type this), you miss the precious moment that is right in front of you.

Like the one this morning, when I sat next to him by the open patio door. Enjoying a soft breeze. As my fingers sank into his soft fur and I stroked the top of his head, he closed his eyes, enjoying the bliss of the moment. I have to be honest, my heart squeezed tight, so tight I thought I couldn't breathe. I was already projecting into the future. To the next Christmas where he wouldn't dive into the pile of tissue paper. Or the first morning where he wouldn't greet us demanding his breakfast. So I made a conscious effort of coming back to THIS moment. The one where he was peaceful and content and right here with me. He hadn't gone anywhere, I had. 

We so often miss the most important things because we are busy imagining into the future or reliving the past. And even though I get these little "life lessons" about being present and aware every time I work with horses, Gerry is teaching it to me and my husband on a whole new level. I have to say, the lesson sucks. I would have preferred a more gentle one. But this is what life has to offer. And so I have to live it. More importantly, I CHOOSE to live it. Right here, this moment. Finding a way beyond the pain, sorrow, heartache and sadness. 

He has more good days than bad right now, and so we are allowing him to make the decision on when it is time to let go. In the mean time I will make the most valiant attempt of staying right here. Smiling at his funny sleeping positions. Being thrilled that he is active and enjoying laying in the sun. Appreciating his soft purr and content gaze sitting next to us. He has always been an individual with a hunger for life. Sensitive to our mood, noises, energy in general. He has never been shy about letting us know what's up. It isn't any different now. When I felt a deep sorrow the other day and cried my heart out, he actually moved away and gave me a very annoyed look. "I am right here, Mom!" No guessing was needed on what he was telling me.

As I sat next to him earlier this morning, stroking him softly and watching a Robin determined to pick up another piece of material for his nest, I realized that life is full of - well - Life. I see the evidence all around me even as I once again loose myself in sadness. And yet, life marches on. As a continuous cycle of life, death and life yet again. Always changing, always present - coaxing us to be aware of this very moment. Life can be loud, and it can be quiet. It can be total full-on chaos or a stillness that makes your heart simply stop because of its breathtaking beauty. It can be ugly and it can be beautiful. And it is all these things and more. But it always is right here, nowhere else.

So when you go see your horse today, or tomorrow, or even next week, take some time and get quiet, get present. Look him in the eye, feel his soft breath against your face, the feel of his coat underneath your hand. Forget, for even just a moment, about his left lead canter not being perfect, or him giving you trouble mounting, or spooking at seemingly nothing at all. Get present and get connected. Because that's really where the magic is.

Daniela