A deer chose my house this week. He found a soft pile of leaves on the protected side of the yard, a refuge in the tightly bound space between two fences and my house. There was a complete break. I saw the bone to his back left hoof jutting out from his leg. The pain must have been immense. The struggle must have been bloody and hard. The instinct must have been great to seek shelter and repose. A deer chose my house to lay down by and die.
I hope my house was his sanctuary. I hope the deer found some peace from his pain in this harborage protected by love and law. My house is a sanctuary for me. I too have lain down curled up by pain to just be. I have lain down and bled tears until I, or the pain, subsided. Yes this is how the deer must have felt as he chose my house to lay down by, but not die.
Tell me there is purpose to enduring this rough and raw spillage sifting through us. Right thinking and meditation and reading and listening to music and painting and crying and writing these and many other words are powerful tools for healing. But nothing replaces another soul vibrating beside you, holding your head and stroking your face.
I am so sorry I was not there to tell the deer…
“Everything will be OK.”
“All is well.”
“The first cut is the deepest.”
“Come away with me and I will ease your pain.”
“Your way of being is in tune with all things.”
“I love you.”
Tell me everything will be OK…
Can we really ease the pain of another?
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