In the world of spiritual practice, no relationship is more sacred than that of student and guru.
I should know.
My former guru was one of the best.
She taught me to make peace with perpetual change. She taught me to overcome obstacles. And, most important, she taught me the power of the pink football.
This is not to say that life with the guru was always easy.
She was a total beeatch a bit feisty at times, and I needed to learn to glean wisdom from actions that, on occasion, seemed almost unbearably cruel a little insensitive.
But Gurus have wisdom beyond that of mere mortals.
Who are we to question their ways?
(Well, I have been known to question a way or two in my time. But that’s what makes me a student. And not a Guru.)
Never was the Guru’s wisdom more apparent than when she left us a few years ago. Yes, we were heartbroken, but we also realized that, even in her passing, she was gifting us with deep wisdom.
And we knew that, in time, a new Guru would appear.
My friends, that day is here.
There’s a new Guru in town and his name is Max.
Max, meet the peeps. Peeps, meet Max.
Like Lucy before him, Max is armed with wisdom galore. And like Lucy before him, Max is already busting out ingenious lessons specially designed to take Melissa and me beyond the boundaries of our egos and into the power of Spirit and Love.
Want to hear a recent one?
When the Guru first came to bless us with his presence, he decided that staying under the couch in my office was the most spiritual thing he could do.
He did this for weeks.
When at last he decided it would also be spiritual to roam around the rest of the house, he did so slowly, carefully.
For weeks that turned into months, the Guru’s range was limited to the house and, rarely, the back patio.
Until it wasn’t.
We first discovered the change in the Guru’s territory when we had a gardener put a new tree in our back patio.
A few weeks after the tree was planted, we noticed a substantial hole next to the new tree.
Although I could swear the hole hadn’t been there a week before, I decided it must have been part of the planting process.
Melissa wondered if the hole had been created by the Guru.
No way, I scoffed. The Guru couldn’t create hole like that. A dog could maybe dig a hole like that. But a cat, no way! Cats are jumpers, not diggers. If the Guru wanted to get out of the yard, he would leap the fence, not dig a hole under it!
Because the hole was a bit unsightly, we covered it up and went about our business.
Until the hole reappeared a week later.
This time there could be no doubt.
The Guru had dug a huge honkin’ hole in the dirt.
The Guru had done something that transcended the bounds of what was “normal” – and possible – for his species.
To confirm this fact, our neighbor on the other side of the fence reported that she had seen him digging the hole.
Not only that, she saw him attempt to squeeze his body under the fence and, when he was unable to do so, he continued to dig until – Presto! Chango! – he wiggled his little Guru self from our back patio to hers.
Not to be stopped at just one mind-bending feat, the Guru then dug another hole from our neighbor’s back patio to our side patio, expanding his territory even further – and smashing more barriers of what was “normal” and possible for a kitty cat to do.
Why was the Guru so uninterested in jumping that he would dig a mammoth hole to get from one yard to another?
Do I dare question the ways of the Guru?
(Again, I do. All the time. But it doesn’t usually get me anywhere.)
What does get me places is this precious first lesson from my new Guru.
Now, when I am faced with fear that I can’t do something – particularly something that transcends the boundaries of what I deem “normal” and/or possible – I remember the Guru.
I remember that I can dig a huge honkin’ hole and wiggle underneath said obstacle so fast, I will leave everyone thinking the hole must have been crafted by a much more capable creature.
But the Guru and I know better.
Who has inspired you to go beyond the bounds of “normal” and possible? Share your comments below!
Congrats to you two (and the neighbor) on the new guru-in-residence! I got a real kick out of this post!
Hi Karen!!! Great to hear from you. Hope you and your Gurus are also doing well! 🙂 XOZ
His name was Spencer Roni macaroni turd larb 😬 I adopted him from my friend who could no longer keep him.
Spencer was a Wild racing champion barkin Jack Russell. Heart of an athlete.
I had him for 10 yrs.
Patience, love , care , admiration. The easier lessons.
The biggest lesson, when it was time to put him down. He had a mysterious illness, had his chest cavity drained of watery blood the year before.
I knew it was ” at anytime ” would be that day.
lessons from other dogs, they tell you when it’s time.
So Spencer did.
I had 1 more day with him.
My vet friend came to my apartment, I never ever ever thought I could hold my dear family member in my arms, and feel them pass.
It was one of the most difficult yet honoring experiences.
Bob my other dog was able to say goodbye too , Spencer didn’t just suddenly leave.
I held Spencer for 3 hours, I couldn’t let go, what if he was just sleeping… I waited to bury him.
We had a lovely burial in the back yard.
I learned I could handle death.
Spencer and my dad were very close ” the two ol men”
6 mos later. It was my dads time. I know without a doubt Holding Spencer gave me a strength I really never thought I could handle.
My dad came home from the Hospital. I had 17 days to be with him. Hug him, look in his blue eyes. He had broke his back in a fall and had a stroke. Couldn’t get out of bed, talk.
A WWll pilot, strong, sometimes harsh ” my way” man.
We had made our peace in the 8 yrs of caring for him.
I knew his wishes.
Being a brain in a shell body wasn’t what he wanted.
So I reassured him, I’d be ok. How much I love and will miss him, but let go. This is not living.
We would tear up cry together. Holding his hand. Loving him. After a week of eating puréed food….
He stopped. The beginning of letting go.
I watched my dad who was a big full figured man, melt away. The fetal position. He’d sleep. Every so often, he’d open his unfocused eyes, they’d clear. His bright blues shinning at me, he was there.
At a certain point he’d be looking up, mumbling to passed family? I believe he was.
He became skin and bone. I took care of him. With some help. Hospice is absolutely the best service ever. They are not their to kill people.
Spencer’s experience helped me be with my dad. My head on his chest for his last few breathes.
Jewish tradition, we don’t leave the passed alone.
We pray to help the soul let go, move on.
I washed my dad, put his favorite shirt on. Straightened him up, from fetal position. Held his had.
My dad my was my rock. I often through the years felt like I couldn’t get through if he passed..
Major lessons. With people and animals if we are in the position to make live / death decisions, I put my feelings aside, what quality of life do they have.
It’s unfair to have any selfish motives, this is their time. Honor it.
Love. Don’t wait
I have zero regrets with my dad. What an honor.
Kindness from people, not the platitudes, but the heartfelt kindness others gave to me, a huge gift.
No need to ever wait to be kind to others. Strangers kindness, was so deeply appreciated.
We never know when kindness to another, gives them a strength to carry on.
That death, it’s something we all have in common.
Our society hides it away, almost unable to deal with it.
The Jewish tradition, we honor the grieving for a year at synagogue.
Then every anniversary of their passing we light a yahrziet candle. Honoring remembering our loved ones. We stand at the synagogue with others, for “The Mourner’s Kaddish”
The experience with Death, was such a blessing, honor, a desire to volunteer with hospice. To help others through such a painful time.
What I went through with my dad , was beautiful. I lost him, yet the incredible depth of spirit was touched.
Love your blogs and Melissa the Spiritual answer woman 😘😘😘❤
Thank you for sharing you life and helping me dig deeper
Hi Julane, What beautiful stories of your loved ones. I agree that you have to set aside personal feelings and simply honor quality of life when the time comes. Most important! I love the Jewish tradition of giving that year to grieve and then honoring the passage every year. So beautiful! Thank you for sharing your experiences and stories! 🙂 XOZ
My Guru showed up the day after I had to put my precious Lab Max to sleep. The new Guru was a black female cat that we have named Maxie, as I as sure Max sent her to me, knowing how devastated I was at losing him. She exhibits some of his same characteristics which continue to keep him in my heart.
Hi Gail,
I’m so sorry to hear about your precious lab! That sounds hard. And I’m also delighted to hear that Max sent you Maxie. There sure are a whole lot of Guru Maxs out there!
Thank you so much for your comment!
XOZ