Contemplating Life Cycles, Grief, and a Dog's Legacy

Be on the edge of 30 has got me contemplating life in the cyces of it. I’ve always been stuck in an accidental crisis in a way. Although death still makes me want to cling to life, because I know one day there will cease to be a tomorrow, with age I’ve been able to explore this with more than fear in a way. I’m grateful for that. A new perspective is always welcome. Just like everything else. The idea has duality the more interest in it. I take the more I question what this all means. The funny thing is the crippling fear never perishes for the first 25 years of my life. Dueath was something that didn’t happen to me my associations with it was very minimal, which is fine because it was life shaking if I did walk past it. More death experience the more I realize that when somebody dies young, it is tragic, but they were gonna die anyways. Everybody has a death thing you get more attention for it the younger you are or the more sudden than it is, but the reality is if you live until 100 how many of your lifelong acquaintances are going to be shocked when your funeral comes you almost get more recognition if you die young and tragically than old and wise trees keep amputated stumps alive they find value in the wisdom that the mutilated tree can bring to the tree community no way we do the same thing with our elderly. Past the age of reproduction and productivity we find value in their words and insights. There’s very little in life. I can’t be hit with that duality elderly, keep us grounded and wore us for the details that they have lived all the while, keeping a stagnant, a shame and fear and resisting change the young, of course, are the exact opposite. It’s almost a crisis how unhinged young humans are are youth, see with eyes of abundance and limitless possibility while the old wrestle with them pushing institutionalization in order they try to calm the very chaos that makes us human. Just like duality, I find that fractals are just as prevalent. Fractals are a pattern that when you zoom in the pattern repeats itself, it’s a visualization of the micro/macro. The way that DNA copies itself into RNA, and little bits and fragments of that DNA is fundamentally changed and a new genetic variant emerges, the forms of life cycles that are subjective and viewable in the human experience… For example, I watch as my grandma and grandpa age I watch as my mom becomes the age. My grandparents were when I was a kid and a kid becomes the age. I was when I was still new, I watch the old struggle a little bit more as I feel time wearing on my own body I see that my mother no longer has the shape of a mother to the shape in the heart of a grandmother and my grandmother so her grandmother, she emulates the form of a great grandmother. my siblings no longer my playmates, and closer to associates.. one of my closest companions in life was a dog that I got to beautifully share a good portion of my life with. I bottle fed him. I watched him experience every single new thing that a life could experience. I watched him learn to swim. I watched him gain confidence in who he was as a being. I experienced him turn into a hormonal teenager. I got to pee part of him, finding a mate reproducing and having offspring. I watched him and he watched me. He could read my expression before I even knew how to identify feelings. He played so many fundamental roles in my existence. It’s hard to think of him as a separate entity from myself. our subjective experience mostly moves forward unless we stop and pause and let it rewind in our minds. Things are constantly progressive. There’s no pause button. my dog grew old as he walked me through adolescence. He held my hand through breakups. at some point, I realized his peak was coming to an end. This more than frighten me. I thought about it a lot in the moments the sun would make his black coat have a dark honey you and his eyes would shine back the color of the sun used to admire his perfection, his chiseled cheekbones, and perfect structure, I started ruminating on him leaving me in one day. No way I’m grateful for this because if I hadn’t seen our separation in my mind, 1000 times simulating the feeling of his eventual departure, I might have went with him entirely. Instead, he took my youth as a souvenir. him and I were so tied together by the soul, although we did not speak to the same language, our heartbeat sang the same song. our walks got shorter. his breathing became labored. The things that we spent the last decade doing together, slowly transformed into memories. his existence was one of the most profound things that I have ever experienced. we both knew that his life has become me more challenging. It was pitiful to watch him exist. We both knew this time we dug is hole together, him and I. We spent the day there together. I cried, he stood behind me agreeing. Still confident, and persistently loyal. He passed that night, us both knowing it was time. My reality stsrted to tilt after the shock subsided. We spent so long together I forgot when I ended and he started. He was the equivalent to a Swiss Army knife. His utility was endless. Protection, entertainment, social buffer, attention attractor, companionship, emotional regulation, a reason to wake up, a calling for adventure, and always a nudge to keep going. I lost a fundamental extension to my soul and physical reality. Over the years I had forgotten how many crack in my psyche that he diligently patched. I forgot that he was why i exercised. The reason I knew the foothills, and rivers like the back of my hand. I forgot that without his nudge, I can isolate and stay in bed all winter. Everything was so sharp without him. The last bite of anything I ate, usually went to blaze, now what do I do with it? The days of him and I grew further away. My depression and anxiety, pair with maladaptive coping mechanisms grew at the same pace. I cried more often than not. From greif, from my soul feeling naked and my identity stripped. The same way I shared all his first I shared all his lasts. The human body in every way fi

Approaching 30, the author contemplates life's cycles, mortality, and the duality of existence, moving from fear to a more profound exploration of death and aging. They use personal experiences, including the aging of family members and the profound relationship with their dog, to illustrate concepts like fractals and the interconnectedness of life. The narrative culminates in the poignant loss of their dog, reflecting on the grief, the loss of self, and the lessons learned from this deep bond and eventual separation.

Deeep thank you for sharing