alchemy of grief

The Alchemy Of Grief

The morning that Dan died I had a dream that a white wolf was sitting on my bed, facing me with his paws on my chest. I could feel his weight, sense the moisture of his breath and smell his fur. We were breathing together in stillness except for the gentle rise and fall of my chest. I wasn’t scared. Even in my dream, I remembered lines from a Clarissa Pinkola Estes book where she describes the nature of wolves and how they huddle, sway and breathe together before a hunt. Wolves know that they are most powerful when they are in sync with the pack and that it is a necessary step before launching into the world.

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