"Remember then, if you deem what is by nature slavish to be free, and what is not your own to be yours, you will be shackled and miserable, blaming both gods and other people. But if you deem as your own only what is yours, and what belongs to others as truly not yours, then no one will ever be able to coerce or to stop you, you will find no one to blame or accuse, you will do nothing against your will, you will have no enemy, no one will harm you, because no harm can affect you."
~ Epictetus, Enchiridion, 1.3
Last night, my beloved cat Scintilla died. She was young, about 5 years old, but she had been sick for months, and then got severely ill this last week. She passed away with some pain and suffering, though I tried to make sure she suffered as little as possible, and that she knew she was loved. I've been having a hard enough time in my life right now, and this would be absolutely devastating, but I've been trying to reach that radical acceptance that even though she was "my" pet, she didn't belong to me, nor did the power of life and death for her. When it was her time, it was her time, and nothing I could do could much alter that. I loved her while she was here, and I let her go when it was time to let her go. The impression that this is pain still sneaks up on me, and I acquiesce briefly to the impression, feeling pain and sorrow. Then I remember the truth, that this is not mine, not in my control. And the pain recedes a bit, leaving only the love I felt and still feel for my beloved companion.
Ave atque vale, Scintilla. Terra tibi sit levis.
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