IT’S 2:00 AM on a Tuesday.
I am wide awake.
The little Shelty puppy will be off on his flight to Washington in three hours.
He is is already immortal, already a perfect expression of perfect Love, as are we, too. He is already beautiful in the timeless spaceless realm of Here and Now. He will arrive here (by my own belief), in a few hours, when we’ve agreed to begin a little adventure in our fantasy of space and time.
He can sleep for this flight. He has his own spirit guides with him now, floating near him. He is perfect as the guides are perfect. So am I. So are we all, untouched by the pretend world that once appeared so large and powerful.
No matter what seems to be, our perfection is already and forever true.
We have met before on Earth, the puppy and us, too, and we will meet again. I am grateful, deeply grateful, for this beautiful event. And for the many others which have guided us, year after year on year.
The death of Lucky, the crash, this belief of this very moment, is every one part of the story we’ve been blessed to have written.
So many stories! So bright the colors we’re writing.!