Somewhere along the path of becoming, we absorbed the notion that worth is contingent upon flawlessness. That to be lovable, we must be polished—composed, orderly, untouched by error.
But life—the kind that pulses with meaning and depth—unfolds not in perfection, but in the spaces between. It lives in the cracks. In the hesitations. In the unanticipated, the undone, the unrefined.
We were never meant to be seamless. We were meant to be whole. And wholeness allows for unevenness—for vulnerability, for nuance, for evolution.
A few months ago, I had to say goodbye to my sweet cat, Cowie. Losing her left an ache in my heart that I wasn’t prepared for. If you’ve ever lost a pet, you know that they’re not just animals—they’re family, companions, and sources of unconditional love. It’s one of the deepest kinds of loss, and in those moments, we look for any kind of comfort we can hold onto. For me, that comfort came through something I’d always heard of but never fully appreciated until now—the Rainbow Bridge.
What is the Rainbow Bridge?
The Rainbow Bridge is a concept that many of us turn to when we lose a beloved pet. It’s said to be a peaceful, beautiful place where our pets go after they pass. In this place, they are free—free from pain, free from sickness, and free to run and play in vast, green meadows under a gentle, glowing rainbow. But perhaps the most comforting part of the Rainbow Bridge is the belief that our pets wait for us there. They watch over us, filled with love, until the day comes when we are reunited and can cross that bridge together.
When Cowie passed, I was devastated. The loft suddenly felt emptier, quieter. My heart wasn’t ready to say goodbye. Recently, Shawn made me a beautiful memorial board to honor her, and it carries the words, “Your wings were ready, but our hearts were not.” Those words couldn’t be more true. As I held that board, I found myself thinking more about the Rainbow Bridge. It’s not just an idea—it’s a reminder that even though Cowie isn’t physically here, her love remains. And in that place beyond the rainbow, she’s waiting for me, healthy and happy once again.
Dear Friends, most of us would agree that this past year has been extremely challenging if not tragic. Many of you have documented your pain and grief in poetry, fiction, and essays. St. Patrick’s Day is today and Easter is coming up, so it’s a good time for us to transmute our sorrow and fear into blessings. It’s spring, a time of rebirth as we see the daffodils blooming. Although daffodils are sometimes pelted by one last snowfall, they are resilient. Indeed, spring is full of promise as four-leaf clovers await our search for good health and fortune. The fourth leaf, luck, adds to the trinity, so even if we fail to find the four-leaf clover, we are truly never alone. With love, I offer this blessing…
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