I’ve been trying to figure out what I wanted to say for this one.

Today’s lesson was supposed to be about presence. About finding a way to actually enjoy the moment while you’re in it, not just afterward in the form of a photo or a memory you wish you had savored more.

There’s a concept in Zen Buddhism called satori. It’s a sudden flash of awareness. A moment of clarity. For a second, you’re just fully awake to what’s happening—and it hits you.

I didn’t expect it to come from the comment section of a TikTok.

Over the last few days, I’ve watched the video I made about Leo—the one where I talk about his death—reach hundreds of thousands of people. The comments have been overwhelming. People from all over the world have shared stories about their own pets, their grief, and the unconditional love they still carry years after their loss.

And something strange happened as I read them.

I felt love for you.

Not in the surface-level “aww this is sweet” kind of way. But in a quiet, honest, full-hearted way. And what’s even stranger is that I know—if we met in real life—I might have judged you, and you might have judged me. We might have written each other off because of our bumper stickers or our politics or the way we carry ourselves.

But in that moment—this moment—I didn’t care. We were just people. Broken, grieving, soft-hearted people trying to say goodbye to something we’ll never stop loving.

That’s presence. That’s satori. And maybe that’s the whole point of all of this.

To stop evaluating everything.

To stop holding back affection.

To stop assuming we’re too different to connect.

And just feel the moment while it’s happening.

Because sometimes, if we’re lucky, we get to see each other clearly. And for a brief second, we get to love each other without all the noise.