Oliver came to sit on my lap during morning prayers.
Half way through my mala beads, the sky darkened, the wind rose and the rain fell. It was bright & sunny just a while ago!
I resisted the urge to get up and rush about to shut the windows in my home.
“What if the wind sends in more dust?”
“What if the rain wets my study table?”
The what ifs were threatening to unseat me.
Meanwhile, Oliver, the Grandmaster of Sleep, continued to nestle more comfortably on my lap, paying no heed as the sky darkened further and the wind swooshed about, sending hangers in the balcony clattering.
After I decided to let them be, I realised maybe Rain and Wind had come to assist me to scatter my prayers further to reach more sentient beings! It was a precious moment in my practice.
With that thought in mind, I stay put and completed the morning dedication.
By the time the prayer ended, the rain had also stopped and the sun appeared again. It was all so brief!
Oliver did not protest when I put the mala beads over his neck. He simply went onto another cane chair and continued his morning nap. 😄
I thought of the occasions when non-action was my only option.
For example, holding an umbrella while walking is not possible for me. And when a light drizzle suddenly becomes a downpour in the midst of a traffic light crossing, I cannot run. But I’ve had strangers offering to share their umbrellas with me.
Then there are times I cannot make the crossing from the steps of a bus to the kerb. One time a youth with tattoos from his arm to his neck gave me his hand.
We’re often told to take initiatives, to be proactive, to solve problems, to eat lunch or be lunch, but sometimes staying put or not having any option, IS the way out.
So my wish is, if anyone is feeling trapped or lost, may he or she not panic and seek unhealthy distractions, but to try & stay put with the situation, because a solution could be just round the corner. 🙏
In mid April 2020, in the midst of lockdowns and stockpiling frenzy, a friend’s beloved dog passed away in the Middle East.
In her grief, my friend found lighting tealights, butter lamps and candles deeply comforting. She was also a little concerned that her supply was running low. Travel restrictions and curfews also made it hard for her to make purchases.
On 23 April I mailed her a box of butter lamps. My intention was for them to lift her spirit from the darkness of loss and to light a path for her departed Nepalese dog child.
It took a long time for the parcel of light to reach her. It had to first leave Singapore to go to the USA, and from there, it then made its way to the Middle East.
Two days ago, more than a month later, the butter lamps finally arrived at my friend’s home in the desert.
When she opened the parcel, it was also Day 49 of her dog’s passing.
Today on full moon eve and on the Tibetan holy day of Saka Dawa, my friend in the Middle East raises one butter lamp from Singapore for her Nepalese dog son. She puts it in a holder that has followed them from his country of birth.
I like to think that the butter lamps that I sent out on account of a humble dog must have blessed many postal workers and handlers as they passed oceans and deserts in time for his 49th day observation.
And I couldn’t have asked for a more auspicious timing for my friend’s gloom to be lifted as she celebrates her beloved companion’s entry into the full moon and into Saka Dawa.
May we continue to be Bearers of Light for one another, regardless of what forms we take and what kind of crossings we make.
I found a tear in one of the pajamas bottoms and decided to sew it shut with a bit of thread instead of discarding it.
My grandpa in dark pants with a friend at the temple he cared for all his life. Behind them are the painted door guardians of the temple.
And in that instance of stitching up the hole, I felt the knobby hands of my grandparents from across the years.
Vivid memories of my grandpa’s stitches on the edges of his pockets and sides of cloth carriers appeared in my mind.
My grandpa was always mending and repairing things. He was always short on money, but never short tempered. He had this gift of approaching chores with an almost meditative attitude which made me want to potter around him more.
Whether it was sweeping the temple compound, arranging grand offerings for the gods or preparing leftovers to feed stray cats, my grandpa did them all carefully & methodically. No work was above or beneath him.
Those wordless afternoons with him would later shape my learning with male teachers and male mentors when I entered school.
The temple door guardian was witness to many of my wordless afternoons with my grandpa. He is now my gateway to my grandpa and my childhood.
After the cremation on 27 May, China Black’s ashes were held in a little box on the shelf he used to sit on during his youth.
And for the past few nights, I would check in and find his cat brothers, Hakim & Emmanuel hanging quietly in China Black’s favorite corner, below his ashes.
Last night was the 6th day of his passing going on 7th. There’s a belief in my culture that on the 7th day of passing, the deceased would come home to make one final visit to check on his family before moving on.
So I lit a butter lamp to light China Black’s path. Then I decided to place a dish of his favourite food next to his ashes to assure him that he’s healed and all’s well in his home, and most of all, he’s free to move on.
I could leave the butter lamp burning and the tuna dish overnight on China Black’s shelf without worry of fire hazard because Hakim and Emmanuel are too portly and too old to climb on the shelf to topple anything.
China Black’s usual way of eating to show that he has more than enough.
This morning the butter lamp had finished burning. Every item on the shelf was in place except for the tuna meant for China Black. It was half finished like the way he usually ate when he was here. He was a small eater, easily distracted and seldom finished his food.
I am grateful that China Black could eat which means he is now healed. His visit on Day7 of his passing has helped me to clear all doubts of animals having souls.
My practice of honouring the souls of animals whether they are alive or dead shall continue, and this time with renewed conviction.
A souvenir that was bought with me in mind 3 years ago surfaced in the giver’s storeroom 2 days before the passing of China Black. It arrived yesterday. ♥️
“Would you like to hug him one last time?” the pet crematorium staff asked as I stood at the furnace.
China Black, the slipper-sized black kitten that I rescued from under the vending machine in Chinatown some 15 years ago had passed on in early dawn.
This little black paw has given me so much.
I took the white shrouded bundle from the crematorium staff & held it close to my heart, like I’ve done so each morning for the past years.
China Black loves perching on the shelves to meet me.
China Black loved cuddles. He began his day by hopping onto one of the shelves to make eye contact with me when I entered their room to feed and water them. Only after getting hugged would he leap out of my arms to join the rest for breakfast.
Of late he started sleeping more in his favourite corner on the floor, and eating & drinking soon became a chore.
Hospitalising a cat like China Black that had never left the security of his home since the day he came back from sterilisation was out of the question. He was as affectionate as he was nervous and he resented being caged or confined in any way.
China Black dozes as he prepares for the journey into Light.
So I tried to make his last days at home as comfortable as possible, and let him pick wherever he wanted to lie down.
A few hours before he passed on, the rain came, followed by thunder and lightning. I lit incense to give thanks for the cool breeze and deliverance from the suffocating humidity of the past few days.
Then I cleaned China Black in scented water with pomegranate leaves like I had been doing for the past few days.
Despite his weakened state, he purred loudly and his eyes glowed affectionately, as if he was trying to memorise my face.
As I massaged his limbs that used to be so nimble and quick, I told him not to be afraid of bodily deteriorations. We had to give up this old shell for something better.
Then I stroked his face, held his little paw that I had kissed so often and said, “You’ve given me so many things. You don’t have to struggle to hold onto this body anymore. Wherever you go, you’ll always be home. Go & rest now, Momma’s always here.”
The cat cage where China Black exited for the Light.Hakim and Emmanuel paused quietly and looked at China Black before I carried him out. I put a butter lamp in there to give thanks. For the rest of the day, these two cats just lounged about quietly near the cage.
After he had 3 sips of honey water I carried him back to his favourite corner on the floor. I had wished he would sleep in the cat cage where it was cosy and clean. But I respected his will. To shield his bony body from the cold ceramic floor, I put a cotton shirt on him.
Before I turned in for the night, I lit a butter lamp that would accompany China Black and all in the room.
China Black loves the Sun. He would frequently stand by the window and look out. I would sometimes carry him to the window to greet the Sun.
As I passed the butter lamp over China Black’s head and body to bless him, he looked up at me in full awareness. I felt him receiving the blessings. I did the same for Hakim & Emmaneul, his cat brothers. They seemed to understand what I was doing and didn’t try to hide or run from the fire, but looked at me intently and calmly.
The next morning I woke up and did my morning prayers before I checked on the cats, which was my second act of the day. And as I faced the rising Sun to give thanks for Life, I was surprised to find myself giving thanks for Death as well, for the first time.
When I looked into the cat room, China Black was lying inside the cat cage. As I stood wondering how he could possibly have the strength to walk and climb onto the raised cage, the words, “Angels were here,” popped into my head.
China Black had passed on as if he was asleep.
It lifted my heart to know that my little cat’s soul has left in the cool of the night, where the air was crisp and the sky was sparkling with stars.
This little black cat has not only given me 15 years’ worth of hugs and affection, but also trained me to see the divinity of Water & the sanctity of Fire for Life’s final crossing.
I’m no student of theology or devotee of any particular spiritual teachings, but I felt assisted when needed. In sharing this experience with China Black, I hope that all who deal with animals be given guidance and resources to honour the death of their animals as much as they have benefitted from their lives.
And for those who are struggling with the inevitable end of animals in their care, may they find the rituals most suited to them to help their animals and themselves to make this difficult but necessary crossing. 🙏🌈🐾
Sweet Grace who taught me acceptance with China Black in their younger days. Both were great climbers and I understood how they must felt to lose control of their limbs & other faculties. This is the time when they need our care most. It is a lot of work and sadness, but it has to be done.
Today is new moon and also World Turtle Day. A critically endangered hawksbill turtle was sighted coming onto Singapore shore to lay her eggs.
Hawksbill Turtle laying eggs at East Coast Park on 23 May (World Turtle Day) Pic courtesy of NParks.
She spent about 2 hours on the East Coast Park beach before covering her contributions with sand and swimming out to sea.
This evening I received gifts of fruits, bread, noodles & soup.
Around this time in 2011, Ron and I took our first trip to Nepal.
It was the mango season then.
It is not something to be taken for granted that the same friend who lugged mangoes back to our hotel that day sent me mangoes this evening 9 years later.
Greeting Ganesha at Harati Hotel in the morning before we set out and in the evening when we returned.
I remember vividly Ron & I eating mangoes by the dusty window of Hotel Harati in Thamel in silent gratitude as cars honked madly on the street below.
A rushed life makes it hard for us to find grounding. And because of our inability to ground, we collect links and connections, hoping they can somehow protect us even as we get entangled by our attempts. (Street scene in Thamel, Nepal)
This stay home imposition has provided me the grounding I need to recall & process lots of stuff.
May the new moon open our eyes to see our own buried past clearly, so that we can gather compassion & wisdom to move forward. And as the scales fall off our eyes in the new moon light, may we develop the courage to look at our own movies, instead of just the ones on Netflix.
May the new moon also refresh our ears even as our mouths are masked shut, so that we can listen better to ourselves and to others, before we speak.
With the nation wide restrictions on human movements and activities, I wasn’t sure if flowers would still be available at the supermarket near my home.
Medical safety aside, getting dressed and donning a mask to make that walk in our humid weather did threaten my flower offering practice.
But I finally made the flower trip while being fully aware that it might turn out to be a “wasted” one.
Outside the supermarket, the styrofoam box that was used to contain the jasmines was empty except for the crushed ice that was meant to keep the flowers fresh.
The bouquets on sale were too large for the vases at home and it looked like I was going home “empty handed.”
Oh well…at least I got to buy new sponges for the sink and some bread, dried fruits and nuts, I thought to myself as I reluctantly accepted the reality of my unproductive trip.
As I made my way home, I turned to take one last look at the bouquets, hoping I could perhaps find a smaller one.
It was then I spotted a burly man showing great interest in the empty styrofoam box, much like what I did earlier on.
Burly Man wore dark clothes and had industrial shoes on. He looked like one of those container truck drivers, not someone you would associate with flowers, especially jasmines.
He gesticulated at the cashier with great familiarity to ask where the jasmines were. The latter made a quick dash to someone inside the supermarket.
Before long, a young male staff appeared, cradling a large bag of packed with little packets of jasmines & showed them to Burly Man. Both men smiled widely at the treasured florals & exchanged pleasantries.
By then, Burly Man knew I was also looking to buy jasmines and garlands, if they were available.
As the packets of jasmines rained down into the styrofoam box, Burly Man helped me sort out the garlands which were in limited supply from the unstrung ones, while picking a few packets for himself.
I paid for the garlands for Ganesha, for Avaloki and for St Francis, and thanked Burly Man for getting the jasmines out of cold storage for me.
Burly Man will never know he had played such an important role in a stranger life’s yesterday.
His timely appearance assured me that making “inconvenient journeys” without the certainty of their outcomes, except that they be a gesture of commitment, must be done even when things don’t pan out the way I hope or want.
And for the past few nights, I would check in and find his cat brothers, Hakim & Emmanuel hanging quietly in China Black’s favorite corner, below his ashes.
Lisa Ong 