Back from the Brink
Day 4 of making Ritual to the Waters
Today I feel that familiar post-threshold feeling of profound weariness that comes after a full surrender. Yesterday Gillie, the black dog, took a turn for the worse and just seemed to withdraw entirely into herself, she was cold to the touch and her breathing was almost imperceptible. I am not sure what age she is, around 8 maybe 9. She had been rescued from an illegal breeder who kept her in an outdoors cage and she had had around 8 litters of puppies. When she came to me she had never been inside, not on a comfortable bed nor had she had much affection. This set up here in the photo was how we spent the first couple of days of her stay here, the 4 of us meditating. I remember then, which was January 2023, she went into a very deep cold state then too. It seems to be how she integrates and releases her trauma. After those 3 days she was absolutely fine, a wild card off the lead yes and a bin-diving food obsessed maniac but otherwise one the of the sweetest, most divine dogs I have ever met. I am not imagining it, she knows how lucky she is and she shows how grateful she is every single day.
Yesterday when it seemed to me she was on the brink of death I was then reminded of everything that we cover in our death doula course and I was struggling to access it. So many people want to die at home but when things turn for the difficult they, or someone else, calls an ambulance; so they die in hospital. Holding your nerve in the face of the End, goodness me. I know that if I called the vets the inevitable advice would be to bring her in, a long car journey to the out of hours service and I was reminded of all the dogs I have held as they have been put to sleep on a cold, clinic floor. I knew, deep, deep down that if this was indeed Gillie's last day on earth then she needed to stay where she was, in her safe space, in her healing space so she could die with dignity and peace.
The inner tension I felt was tremendous, the absolute desire to be validated in my decision or told what to do by "someone" who knew better than me. The child in me looking around for the parent, the adult, what am I supposed to do? And then it all crashed in on me, the loss of both my parents now, the friends and loved ones that died too soon, the many dogs and cats, some young and in tragic circumstances. And the full burden of that Grief was piercing me, my heart seared in acid, the raging desire to exit my skin and the unbearable, untenable, feeling of acute and unfathomable loneliness. It wasn't even about Gillie, it was me that was also on a brink. Usually I would lament, but I saw Gillie's eyes open and look at me and I held my tongue and tone. It would be for me to lament another time, she's so sensitive to my emotions already. So I held it, held it... still held it, held the unholdable. And it passed somewhat, it eased and I was able to pick up the phone.
I called 3 different people and only one answered. They told me to call the Vets, I knew they were wrong but I welcomed the input. I put a call out on my Facebook for Love and prayerful support, I did not ask to be validated or for anyone's opinion and of course people weighed in - do this, don't do that - take her to the Vets, leave her where she is. People. Come do our doula course! Learn to say to the person asking for support (but not for advice)... "you got this" "whatever you decide I support you"... but despite the views and opinions there was also this massive inflow of Love, I instantly felt it. The brink I was on was isolation and the Return began with reaching out.
A peace came over me and in the moment of stillness that followed the wave of peace came the still small voice that said "check the side effects of what the vet prescribed her on Friday" and when I did, lethargy and nausea were in there and I just knew... that's what it is. She was already now stirring more and snoring instead of playing dead. I could feel it had passed.
She still isn't quite right, I will take her back tomorrow and see what the vet thinks. But she is massively improved.
If you think this story is just about the dog then maybe you don't know me... I use mundane stories, mine and others, to illustrate important points. I am 30 years a death doula working to restore agency and personal power to the dying and I STILL wavered in uncertainty wanting the professionals opinion when intuitively I felt it was better to leave her where she was. Even though I talk about the importance of community and connection, and I am fabulously well supported in many ways, the raw edge of Grief and being alone still took me to unbearable places of isolation and aloneness.
These matters are systemic rather than personal, symptoms of a wider disintegration of our communities and webs of connection to the wisdom of all things. When I say "disintegration" it sounds like they just happened to fall apart, but the reality is that our communities and webs of connection were actively dismantled by occupation, colonisation, power over and hierarchical forces of church and state, broken down actively to separate the poor, the servants, the workers into units that served the systems, the machines and industry.
They were actively dismantled and we must actively re-build. and this the Work.
And it finally, I know this is a long one, this brings me back to the Waters and how the waters connect us all and all of Life. Where the grief of our ancestors was stifled by the machines of industry and war, it must now flow again. The waters have been dammed, channelled, abused and poisoned and must now flow clean again. Grief and water as metaphor, sure, but for me they are absolutely one and the same thing, not actually a symbolic statement but exactly the same.
In my view joining in our grief and lamenting together breaks the dams and the channels and frees us from the binding systems of oppression together and everything that lament liberates in turn benefits our Planet; our shared liberation is bound up in restoring the Flow of all that connects and unites us.
I took the dogs on a very short walk for Gillie's sake just down to the babbling brook. In taking the breath, in singing the water chant, in casting the oats into the current, I felt the trauma of the past couple of days just leave my body.
Whatever happens next at least I have made peace with that which I could not. Reconciling the unreconcilable. With prayer, with ceremony and with connection to community; human and more-than-human.