I remember an old 1970’s sci-fi film set in Earth’s post- apocalyptic future when humans had tried to resolve what they judged as the aging “problem” by simply eliminating the older people. At some point after their 20’s, people were sent off with a big, happy graduation party to walk through a big set of doors to some great unknown magical place and never seen again. None of the young people knew what old age looked like or even that it was a normal part of the human experience. It was beyond their understanding, but so was the wisdom of experience that comes with it.

As a meta-physician, I know that the physical body has infinite regenerative capacity. I know that the body is not the truth of who we are and that physical death is not the end of our experience. Yet, it is still difficult to watch a loved one struggle with an aging body because we still identify so strongly with our physical selves as the reality of who we are.

My cat, who has been my dear companion for many years, will soon turn 18 and has experienced noticeable physical changes these last few years. While she can still get around the house, there are days that her legs are stiff enough that going up the stairs is a slow process and she sometimes will opt out of getting up on her favorite perch on my bed, despite the special steps I’ve placed there. Yet, she seems un-phased by these changes, does not cry or show any signs of distress.

As her caretaker, I want to “fix” her when I see her struggle. Intellectually, I know that it does not serve her purpose to stay in this body forever, but I still experience the desire to “heal” her oncoming death from happening. I realize that this comes from my judgment that physical aging and death is to be avoided, and that it should be preventable if we just work at it hard enough.

Yet, when I check in with my Soul for guidance, I hear repeatedly that she is fine with what is happening and that she needs nothing from me but love. She is my greatest teacher in this, as she has been in so many things. She has no attachments to this lifetime and no beliefs about the rightness or wrongness of death. It is simply a metaphor for the transitions that we all go through in our spiritual journey, from one phase of our learning to the next. When it is time for her to make that transition, she will. No drama. No regrets. No judgment.

I am learning, as I watch her move uncomplainingly through this phase of her life, to let go of my own ideas of how things should be. If she does not perceive this as suffering, then why should I? Her aging body is the perfect vehicle for what she is both learning and teaching right now. It is exactly as it should be and does not need any fixing from me. If the time comes that I am guided to assist her in her transition, I will strive to do so from a place of pure Love. No drama. No regrets. No judgment.

I honor her wisdom in this simple truth: total and unconditional non-judgment of any of her experiences. I hope to follow her example in living my life with that fluid, cat-like grace of total acceptance. The total non-judgment of what Is.