a process

ever since i returned from marathon, empty handed (as far as a cat carrying case is concerned), i've put off cleaning the pillow that ruby used to sleep on. i shoved it in a trash bag to bring back with me, and there it still sits, behind the chair in my room, hidden. there are sweet little black ruby furs all over it, poking out of the corners, and stuck in the weave. it's extreme, i realize. it's like cleaning the house after a lover has moved out. or giving away the personal belongings of a person who has passed over. to seal time with the acceptance that a shift has occurred...that our day to day interactions have to find a new routine...and life is having to adjust to the absence. everything changes. the energy in my immediate, personal atmosphere is altered. it's different, and new. similar to an acquaintance: some familiarity, and a lot of unknown.

yesterday while cleaning up my room i came across the bag with the pillow in it. feeling desperate for ruby affection, i opened the bag, only revealing a small portion of the top of the pillow, and plucked several downy hairs into a precious tuft. i remembered how hairy my bed and pillows would get, but i never minded brushing it off, especially if it meant ruby was looking over me at night when i was asleep and weak to the outside world.
i held that little tuft and as clear as day i recalled the sound of her lyrical meow. blessed with black cat powers i put the tuft in my medicine pouch to resonate, sealed with a kiss.

as of late, i've been really needing some unabashedly sincere, strong and uplifting energy to come my way. daydreams and ruby have in the past been my remedy for a broken heart. left with only my daydreams, i wonder what opportunities and blessings will come my way. and when this feeling of vulnerability will go away. but for now, i look forward to finding peace.

the peace that this life is only once.
that this life is precious and potentially full of wonders.
and that it's not over yet.