The Manuscript

My Pooch

In my early twenties, I stumbled upon a large puppy at the animal shelter. I wasn't particularly a dog person, and I'm still unsure why I was even there. It was likely an impulsive decision. They told me he was about three months old, but he seemed much larger than I expected for his age. He was a mix of Great Pyrenees—a charming mutt.

As I walked through the kennels, all the dogs barked and jumped, vying for attention. I glanced down at him; he lifted his head for a moment to meet my gaze before resting it back down on his enormous paws. In that instant, I knew he was the one—I was smitten. I had to leave to withdraw $50 from an ATM because I hadn’t even brought money. Why had I gone there? I still can’t explain it.

I lived in a small second-floor apartment where having a dog was technically against the rules. Eventually, I did get caught—this always seems to happen.

Jasper was a gentle giant. He rarely barked or showed excessive excitement. He only licked my face when I asked for a kiss. I think I heard him growl maybe twice in his life. He was simply perfect. He understood me in a way no one else did. When I walked through the door, he could sense my mood. His joyful greeting never wavered, but on days I was down, he'd quietly retreat with his tail tucked, sensing my discomfort. He had been my companion longer than anyone else in my adult life—through two marriages, several relationships, multiple homes, and even the arrival of a child. He remained a constant source of gentleness.

Jasper adored his walks. His leash still hangs in my coat closet, and I recall his eager expression every time I reached for it. As he aged, he slowed down like we all do, yet his desire for those walks never faded. I am eternally grateful that I took him for a walk that last morning.

When he was around nine years old, he faced some gastrointestinal issues, prompting a vet visit. To our shock, they discovered a massive tumor weighing over 14 pounds on his spleen! After surgery, he bounced back lighter but healthier. The only other time he underwent surgery years later, he returned home in a small black ceramic urn.

> I miss my big puppy so very much. Capturing moments for this story was incredibly bittersweet.

Acknowledging My Reality

While I’ve discussed my mental state during my dream elsewhere, I’ll keep it brief here. For a significant part of my marriage, I felt trapped in a hollow relationship, consumed by loneliness. As a single parent to a child with severe mental illness and grappling with my own mental health struggles, I felt invisible—like a ghost in my own home, wandering through despair. No one seemed to need me.

A book I encountered prompted me to question my “purpose.” What did it all mean? What was I truly meant to do with my life? I was overwhelmed by unanswered questions, feeling not just lonely but profoundly lost. I craved direction, something to aspire to—a sense of purpose.

My Quest for Self-Discovery

In 2018, a pivotal moment shifted my perspective. Discontent with myself, I resolved to embark on a personal quest for knowledge. I approached this journey as an experiment, eager to test various theories.

I focused on three main areas that seemed to drive human existence: religion, psychology, and philosophy. I sought therapy, completed workbooks, read extensively, delved into Buddhist teachings, embraced stoicism, and engaged in deep introspection. I worked to forge positive neural pathways while dismantling negative ones. The more I studied and learned, the stronger I felt. I grew increasingly connected to myself and the universe—an experience akin to cosmic revelation.

I became more mindful, observing my surroundings and shedding willfulness. I retrained my brain, undergoing a profound transformation. Everything around me shifted—my perspective, my perception. The internal demons began to fade, replaced by newfound clarity. Life became remarkably, wonderfully peculiar. I started to connect the dots, spotting signs everywhere.

Transforming myself proved to be one of the most challenging and painful endeavors of my life. Imagine a leopard trying to change its spots. I evolved, yet he struggled to trust me fully, keeping me at a distance. I had to set aside my pride for the sake of not only our relationship but for my own growth.

He didn’t have to sacrifice much—just to believe in my progress. Consequently, I bore the burden of being the one who worked tirelessly to mend our bond. Yet I embraced this challenge because it transcended “us.” It was about me—my journey took three years, yielding invaluable results.

“Why didn’t I leave?” echoed in my mind. Because I glimpsed a spark of hope that something worthwhile remained to salvage.

After all my efforts, I found myself wrestling with doubt about whether I had truly succeeded in my quest. I felt I had integrated my multiple selves, aligning my various levels of consciousness. I wasn’t perfect, far from it, but I had transformed into a new version of myself. Surely, I was headed in the right direction, yet that question lingered.

In 2022, a significant event occurred when my wallet was stolen at the mall. I returned home a different person, stripped of my identification. There was liberation in losing my identity—free from constraints, expectations, and past judgments. I realized that my reaction to this loss illustrated the success of my self-transformation. This was a profound revelation.

I picked up a memoir I had started writing years before but had abandoned, feeling unworthy of my own story. Through my hard work, I had created something meaningful. I began crafting a book that recounted my unique journey of self-discovery—my readings, my reflections, my actions, and inactions. While the theme is not entirely unique, my narrative is.

With renewed clarity, I felt confident in what I wanted to express. The signs were clear. My inner voice resonated with the universe. However, as I began summarizing the last twelve years of my marriage, I encountered darker memories that made me question the direction of my book. I felt I was reliving past suffering.

Stress crept in as I engaged in the writing process. I hired a book coach, who suggested I start writing on Medium to cultivate an audience for my future book. I could monetize my writing while simultaneously working on the manuscript.

This plan didn’t unfold as expected. Building a subscriber list across platforms required immense effort. Balancing my writing on Medium, WordPress, LinkedIn, and X left me little time for the book itself. I’ve been navigating this journey alone and still seek equilibrium.

I began to question whether I was on the right path. Despite my discoveries about myself, love, and the pursuit of happiness, many questions remained unanswered.

When I initiated my quest, I had no specific plan. The direction unfolded naturally, leading me through doors of opportunity. When one door closed, another opened, guiding me toward a small hidden entrance into the depths of my soul: my dreams.

The Power of Dream Symbolism

One significant stop on my journey involved exploring analytical psychology, where I perused a symbolism book from my husband’s collection. For nearly a year, he had been seeing a Jungian therapist for dream analysis and consistently documenting his dreams, uncovering recurring symbols.

Psychology suggests that dreams convey messages from our psyche through symbols. A single dream might seem insignificant, but recurring symbols across different dreams can hold deeper meanings. Many of us interpret dreams literally, which often feels logical, though some dreams defy explanation.

Symbols embody ideas, thoughts, memories, and meanings. This article won’t delve deeply into symbols or contrasting theories but will acknowledge their existence, which can be personal or universal, both vital for dream interpretation.

Everything Happens for a Reason

Shortly after my dream, while studying symbols, I accidentally dropped the symbolism book. As I picked it up, it opened to page 778, titled “Transformation” (ARAS, 2010).

Over the past two years, I have become a fervent believer in synchronicity, also a Jungian concept. I’ve come to understand that events are interconnected, and few things happen purely by chance. I was meant to drop that book. I was literally faced with “transformation” in bold letters.

The book discusses transformation and alchemy—how lead becomes gold and the philosopher’s stone emerges from chaos. “Basic substances and elements that symbolize unconscious processes are transformed by torture into incorruptible psychological states of mind” (ARAS, 2010).

This revelation was monumental for me.

Interpreting My Dream

Drawing from the literature I’ve studied on universal symbolism and my personal meanings, I’ll share what my dream represented.

Several notable symbols stood out: the color green, the daytime setting, the gentle breeze, the tree beside me, the grass surrounding me, the trail my family had taken, my dog, the cave, and Simple Green. The purity of the water and Jasper’s white fur were also significant, as was the bowl used to provide hydration.

I Found My Missing Self

My dream resonated with me deeply. Its messages reverberated through my core, bringing tears to my eyes and chills to my skin. It felt like music to my soul.

Day by day, I felt myself dying as I relinquished control over external forces to answer my questions. I had repeatedly “died” as I sought connection—yearning to be seen, touched, heard, and loved. I dedicated my energy to uncovering my missing self.

Dreams often require sacrifice. This journey was the most significant sacrifice I’ve ever made. My dreams validated my dedication. I knew it was the right path. The solution was clear: address the issues and find myself, and in doing so, I would heal my relationship.

> My missing piece was me.

My purpose is to live, love, and laugh with all my being, without looking back. I aim to write passionately about my experiences, inspire others, and bring smiles to faces through my words.

The universe has affirmed that I am on the right track, that my efforts have borne fruit, and that I have found what I sought—myself. I have successfully integrated my shadow. My psyche is aligning, and I am in harmony with both my inner voice and the universe. In the essence of transformation—I have been reborn.

Self-improvement and growth are ongoing processes; they are never truly complete. We may never reach full transcendence, but we should always strive for it.

Life Beyond

Jasper lived to be 12, passing away in 2012. I haven’t had another dog since; I’ve never wanted one unless I could have him back. His black ceramic urn rests atop my curio cabinet, alongside his collar and a cast of his paw print. I have never loved an animal as profoundly as I loved that dog.

> Jack and I have promised each other that when one of us passes, we will adopt a Great Pyrenees to keep us company. He will name his Daisy, and I will name mine Ben, ensuring we are never alone. Jasper will truly return.

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