Realize what we need to Realize

The smallest things are what keep me alive.

I was having a particular hard night a couple days ago. I had just caught painfully gross strep throat, ontop of having my period, oh and the wee small fact that I hadn't been sleeping properly for years.

Basically I felt robbed of any kind of energy or motivation, or just happiness. I felt like my joyful spunky spirit was trapped in this horrible weak tiny body. I cannot explain how many times I have been sick or caught some random disease for the past few years, its fucking comical. If there's any trace or maybe not even fucking one, of some kind of disease or sickness floating around anywhere, I always without a doubt catch it.

I cannot explain to you this much, but it's kind of soul corroding. Yes I know it's not like it's Cancer or like I have a missing limb, but imagine spending your whole life in bed or recovering or slugging through your life. It pretty much sucks.

Anways that night I decided I hated God. Or to be more exact I completely convinced myself with so much hatred that there couldn't possibly be a God. After all these months of praying and chanting and meditating and crying out for God to enter my life, he still hadn't. And for further prove where was he when he decided to throw all this sickness ontop of my already ongoing insomnia problems.
I cried. And I just lay there with no hope or anything in my heart but pain.

The next day I took a sleeping pill. I just gave in. I slept all day and felt stupid for wasting a day but also happy for my brief period of relief. The sun was going down so I threw on my running shoes and booked it to the ridge top mountain which over looks endless rolling hills of forest mountains which all pour into each other and reach the horizon. I made it just as the sun was setting. I sat and meditated right amongst the dry corn weeds and didn't really do it for God. I kind of just did it for me. To breathe and relax I suppose.

As it started to get dark I walked back, slowly and deliberating taking my time. When there is nothing to rush back to, why rush? I walked along the cute little winding hills of the community and passed the goat farm. I've always loved animals and hoped maybe I'd see some. Although they are ususally penned up at at night and can't be seen. That was the first weird sign.

 The goats were out. Or at least a few of them. I clucked and stuck my hand out over the fence trying to get them to come. I had my eye on this black girl that took a few steps towards me and gave me hope. But like a stubborn animal it stopped a few feet away from me and wouldn't move no matter what I did in my frustrating attempt. Eventually she turned abruptly around and walked off. That's when I noticed out of the corner of my eye a plump white buck who was waiting behind. As soon as the black goat left he walked right up to me with no hesitation and loving pushed his head right into my hands. Now goats aren't that particularly loyal or cuddly, I mean yes they let you pet them or yes they might stick around but eventually they get bored or hungry and skip off. This guy sat stretching his neck painfully straight up so I could stroke his nose, his neck, the little patch between his horns, I mean he was like a loyal puppy.

Funny thing is giving love is always the thing that makes me most happy. Receiving yes it lovely, but being allowed to adore a pet, a friend, a partner, has always been the thing that gives me the most joy. And here I was having had a particularly hard before and I felt better instantly because this young buck was nuzzling me.

In my weird sort of way I started trying to see into that whole experience as I kept walking home. I figured it was sort of a metaphor. The black goat sort of represented darkness, or at least the dark emotion of despair. Oddly I chose that goat first to coax, putting all my energy into that. Yet of course she held back, making me even more pissed for not getting fulfillment. But as soon as I gave up on her, that beautiful light animal ran right into me. He was waiting for me to stop directing my energy elsewhere so that he could have his chance to come to me. I even lovingly remember I subcociously kept cooing to the boy as I stroked his rough fur
"What a beautiful boy. What a beautiful beautiful boy you are Rama. Thank you Rama."

Why Rama? Why did I choose that name?
I looked up what hindu scriptures to see what they said about him.
This is what I found:

Rama is the seventh avatar of the god Vishnu in Hinduism
Ram's life and journey is one of perfect adherence to dharma despite harsh tests of life and time. 

Wow it is no coincidence this small but beautiful experience happened to me. I don't think I completely changed my mind about life. But I definitely see that there are signs in everything, helping us to realize what we need to realize.