by Sherisa Dahlgren, LMFT
Windows Program Consultant & Facilitator
Diesel, my beloved pup, crossed over the rainbow bridge. Flirting with 15 years old, Diesel held on longer that any pup could have imagined. Perhaps because from a dog’s perspective she was living the life of luxury. She was the center of my world, and she knew it. My mother, a lifetime Christian, said if she believed in reincarnation she would fervently pray to the Lord to come back as my dog.
After the initial intensity of the grief subsided and I settled into only the occasional bout of tears when my eye caught the glitter of her hair permanently embedded into the corner of the bed where she loved to sleep, I started to reflect on how this felt different than past cycles of grief.
About 16 years prior I experienced a related cycle when my rabbit Mochi crossed the rainbow bridge. In reflecting on how I was experiencing the grief process differently this time, it struck me that while it was still intense, somehow it felt easier. I did not hold the “not-enough-ness” guilt like I had in the past. When Mochi passed I felt immense guilt that I didn’t spend enough time with him, that I could have been a better bunny mommy, that I somehow failed at the core aspects of love and caretaking. There were, of course, times in which I got busy so cuddles and quality time were less than I would have liked. Yet, all things considered, I was actually a badass bunny mommy. Mochi was well loved. I went to the farmers market because he preferred the fresh Italian parsley from the farms over the store bought greens. He came to work with me a couple of times a week. Every morning I would put out his travel case and he would decide to hop in (yes going to work today) or hop away (no thank you mommy). Quite honestly he had more self agency than I did over how to spend his time! We built a rabbit hutch with a doggie door attached to the house so he could freely roam the house but then disappear into his own personal hay sanctuary for his private needs. He often slept on my shoulder and would nestle into my arms. I was his person. So, why the guilt? And, even more intriguing, why no guilt over Diesel?
With Diesel I experienced similar times of less availability. I even had to make the hard decision to help her transition with the support of a lovely vet who came to our home. Having to face that difficult decision, you could assume I would be riddled with guilt. Yet, I am fine.
I observe how some people become more rigid as they age while others are more at ease with life. Was I growing into greater ease? Had I finally mustered the ability to offer myself the same level of gentleness that I so freely offer others?
While I know that self-love is a lifetime journey we must consciously take if we don’t want to end up in rigidity instead of ease, the process of internally directed kindness never came naturally to me. It was easy to see my flaws and work hard to fix them. To live in a place of constant deficit, where my worthiness depended on things that require effort to learn like work ethic, consistency, and skill building.
Diesel was one of my greatest earthbound teachers of worthiness. She would greet me with an equal measure of unconditional love whether I had left for 5 minutes to grab the mail or a full 8 hour work day. She knew I was worthy and loved me and it had nothing to do with whether I cooked her French toast for breakfast (her favorite) or all I could muster that day was to open a can of dog food. And I loved her even when I came home to the Diesel sized hole that she chewed into my mattress because she loved to burrow down into a hug when she slept.
We offered one another unconditional love in a way that helped me then offer this to the humans in my life, including myself.
What Diesel helped me see is that I am worthy because I exist. I am worthy when I work hard and when I take a day to rest. I am worthy when I nail a presentation and when I bomb it. I am worthy when I eat a kale salad and when I eat a cookie (or the whole bag). I am worthy because I am divine.
I am convinced these precious familiars – Diesel and Mochi were two of mine – are aspects of the divine sent to us to help us grow and evolve as divine beings. For me, art can illuminate this process of evolution. Like invisible ink being revealed under the right light, art can make visible our innermost thoughts and feelings. Created in honor of Diesel, the art workshop worksheet can be a space for you to acknowledge a beloved companion who touched your life or taught you something important.
Using creativity to reflect on the journey you shared with your pet can help make it tangible, so you can carry what you learned from them in your heart and use it in other areas of your life.
I believe it was the shift into knowing I am worthy that explains the gentleness of the grief I felt with Diesel. I am a divine being experiencing grief, who has the ability to gently release less than divine thoughts because I deserve the very best this life has to offer. Including gentleness. Including great gentleness and compassion for myself and all the beloved familiars who have visited my life over the years with their love and their teachings. Including joy, even in the midst of grief. All of it.
by Sherisa Dahlgren, LMFT
Windows Program Consultant & Facilitator
Download the Paws & Reflect handout to take a moment to reflect on a furry friend that has positively impacted your life.
Want to bring healing art programming to your workplace or community?
A Window Between Worlds (AWBW) supports hundreds of direct service organizations across the country to incorporate creative expression into their work with trauma survivors. With this blog we uplift the voices of our art workshop facilitators and participants. We invite you to take in this perspective, notice what resonates and explore how it may fit into your life.