in which i look at the fear of losing atlas
there is a practice i find very useful in working with my fears, when i remember to do it. it’s from the book feeding your demons by tsultrim allione.
atlas was having health troubles over the weekend – it is likely that he is developing an intolerance to the one food he can eat – so i was feeling very sad and discouraged. during my process of working with my sadness and discouragement, i remembered the practice, and felt strangely moved to share the result.
deep breath.
i ask to see the fear of losing atlas.
i see a tall stick figure. it’s a bird with beady eyes and a giant beak. it might have wings but it is really hard to tell, possibly because the wings are just sticks dragging from the shoulders. the image looks awfully familiar. (now, as I write this, i think i know what it is. it looks like my memory of the drawing of that creature in the last book in the lion, the witch, and the wardrobe series – that creature that comes into the barn where they keep the donkey that they’re pretending is a god and picks up the people and carries them away.)
i ask the fear what it wants, what it needs, and how it would feel if it got what it needed.
i change places. as the fear, i answer my questions.
i want to grab atlas and squeeze him tighter and tighter and never let him go. i want to keep him with me forever. i want to always be as happy as i was in that moment when lisa opened the door and i saw his happy face through the screen door and fell in love.
i need you to treat yourself with love and kindness. i need you to know that you are worthy of both, to know that you are worthy no matter what, to realize your inherent value. i am afraid that without something external that reminds you that you are loved no matter what, you will forget, and things will go back to the way they were before. i am afraid that you won’t remember any of this without atlas here to remind you.
if i get what i need, i will feel safety and relief.
i change places.
i ask to transform myself into safety and relief. i see myself whooshing – like a genie going into a bottle – into a tall coke glass full of liquid with a bendable straw in it.
the fear drinks the liquid. (surprisingly, it has no trouble sipping from a straw with its beak.)
as it drinks, it begins to fill with color. by the time the glass is empty, the fear has transformed into a beautiful iridescent blue peacock.
i ask the peacock how it can help me.
i change places. as the peacock, i answer my questions.
i am here to help you remember your inherent beauty and radiance and worth and value. i am here to help you remember that everything you need is inside you. it lives in your heart. you are learning to access it. atlas is in your heart, and he will live there forever. you no longer need something external to remind you that you are worthy.
i can help you remember this by allowing your eye to catch the sparkle of sunlight on the wet grasses and flowers. when you see that sparkle, you will remember my message.
if you need to access me, put your hand on your heart and follow the sunshine. there is sunshine every day. you are learning to find it.
i change places and sit with all of this.
This is so simply beautiful..brought tears to my eyes. And such a wonderful way to ‘practice’ working thru fear. Thank-you for this!
Elizabeth, Thank You! I have been having some overwhelming thoughts similar to yours, that bring tears and are so hard to shake. They come out of nowhere and i have had such a tough time with them. I want to get this book, i want to try this out. I thank you for being here this morning and every morning. You are beautiful filled with love & light. xox
<3 this made me tear up. xo
Another person dabbing tears from my eyes as I type. Looking at fear so closely seems very brave to me. I don’t know if I’m that brave.
Beautiful. Just… beautiful.
i just want to *SQUEEZE* you. thank you for sharing so much of your personal and spritual self. love to you!
big, fat tears rolling down my face. it’s my birthday today and getting the tears to flow is the best gift you could have given me.
this is an exquisite perception of fear. and what it can do to us. thank you for your beauty in expressing life.
dogs who are part of us… not the lonely ones in back yards that nobody talks to, that only are fed and watered and yelled at…
but those dogs that actually become inside our hearts… well, they have a sensitivity to us.
once on a walk, my beloved zeke just stopped. he would not move. he stood looking up at me. i couldn’t understand it.
later i was to discover i’d had an eschemic stroke.
he knew before i did.
i wonder if his tummy trouble is because he senses you’re leaving on vacation.
if he could only remember how FABULOUS the doggy ranch is and how much fun he’ll have!!!
tell him. quietly and calmly and with total love and i think he’ll get well.
much love and white light to you both,
tammy j
That is very beautiful. (And yes, I teared up, too.) Thank you for sharing it.
I’ve had such profound effects from my use of that practice. It’s an amazing thing.
each time i come here. i go away feeling such
strength on meeting the day.
you are a gift. beautiful.
smooch.
Thank you for sharing this. “Thank you” isn’t enough to express how some of my very profound needs within needed to read this and feel this. Not only are you loved, but this beautiful Soul of yours is doing work that is essential to this planet and that today, was essential to me. I am grateful you are in the the world at the same time as me. Shine, Peacock, shine.
Beautiful!
it’s true, atlas will be inside of you forever. he will always be a part of you and your future life, and what you learned from him will have transformed you. Pets are alchemy.
Much love to you as you face this fear all we animal-lovers fear! xo brooke
I paused before reading this and I bet you know why. With what’s going on with our Sugar my heart hurts and the fear of losing her too soon is very real. Thank you for sharing this. It helps me be a little braver and it tells me I have someone who completely understands. <3
Oh, Lib. I love you so much. You have such a beautiful soul. Thank you for sharing so much of it with us.
I didn’t really want to read this (sad), but I figured if you could write it the least I could do was read it….Atlas isn’t , of course, my dog, but I’m sure all of us who read about him have come to love the dude so it’s touching for all your friends. It always hurts to think of losing a friend.
So beautiful, so real. Hugs.