September 7, 2024
I do believe in an everyday sort of magic—the inexplicable connectedness we sometimes experience with places, people, works of art and the like; the eerie appropriateness of moments of synchronicity; the whispered voice, the hidden presence, when we think we’re alone. ~ Charles de Lint
Without intending to, I’ve turned giving my cat insulin into a spiritual practice.
Twice a day, every day, since December of last year. While I’m preparing the syringe I’m saying a prayer for its correctness and efficacy. When he’s ready for the injection, I am praying that he receives it easily and comfortably.
After he gets the injection (while purring obliviously on my lap), I thank him for accepting this medication, and I say a prayer of thanks to God and the devas and fairies, who I figure are the guardians and invisible companions of all our animal friends.
I hope the med beds will soon render insulin unnecessary, but meanwhile, the twice-daily prayer and medicine sessions shall continue.
*****
I suspect I consciously communicate with Spirit more than I think. I sometimes feel as if my life is a series of grumpy moments interspersed with the rare smidgen of joy or carefreeness—not a lot of enlightened levity to be found. But I’ve noticed lately that I’m pausing in the midst of busyness, marveling at some cool bit of Universal Timing and saying out loud, “Wow, thanks, God,” for these tiny miracles and synchronicities.
I wonder if noticing them and giving thanks increases them? Perhaps they’re always there, waiting in the wings of coincidence, where the timekeeper fairies reset their miniature watches, ready to gift me with the next amazing synchronicity.
*****
When Brownie was rudely thrown into the realm of diabetes with a medical emergency requiring hospitalization, it felt like the end of the world. There were a few moments when I thought euthanasia might’ve been a better option, which goes to show how bad it was.
I’ve only gradually become aware of the metamorphosis from “it’s the end of the world” to “it’s an opportunity to feel Spirit caring for both of us.”
Am I grateful that my cat has diabetes so I have those twice-daily bonding-and-gratitude sessions? No, I’m not. I am never grateful that someone I love is in distress or pain.
I do recognize the gift within that ugly package, though, the same way I recognize the gift in previously unnoticed synchronicities. It’s almost as if there’s an overseer who never sleeps, arranging the strands of time just so, making sure there’s not a simultaneous overlap in things that must be done NOW.
Whether it’s random coincidence or a benevolent hand upon the chessboard of life, I welcome the ease when I find it… and say a big Thank You you when Spirit drops a sturdy potting bench practically on my doorstep, courtesy of a neighbor who no longer wanted it.
