Stormy Weather
Seeing Eye Dog
Though I’m long retired, and weekends don’t carry the significance they once did, I, too, am impatient with storms finding their way here every weekend.
I’m not alone.
As I’ve told you before, the biggest surprise in having Basil come to live with us is realizing what a big empty space Zinnia, our previous terrier, left in my heart when she died suddenly last spring.
Basil, six months old, has claimed a place in me I had thought would remain barren.
The weight of the administration’s intention to take down the fragile, precious experiment this country has spent 250 years struggling to put in place, can feel like a huge weight on the psyche.
I’ve never developed a steady prayer discipline, but I find myself offering my heart to God, who has bequeathed breath to all sorts and conditions of people. And who, as the prophets continue to insist, will bring justice to those who are oppressed.
Somehow I’ve managed to settle into a daily practice of mindful meditation. That encourages me to recognize that the thoughts that visit me, especially the ones that torment me about our nation, have no permanent claim, either on my easily distracted mind, nor on the energies that will shape the time to come.
Basil, the gentlest, most accommodating of the 5 Norfolk terriers I have known, is an angel.
Angels are God’s messengers.
I had lost the timbre, the rhythm of the energies that sustain this world, that transcend the madness our species can raise up with our self-defeating hubris.
Basil has retuned my ear. Reassuring me that the the arc of history is indeed long, and my impatience is just that. What is it about Basil’s gentle affection, undeterred by my manic response to disrupt efforts to bring justice to the least among us, that can lift my sights?
Basil greets every person and dog we see on our morning and evening walk, with inexhaustible enthusiasm. Most find it impossible not to respond. Some don’t. Many, I would have walked right by because they don’t instinctively rouse the welcoming part of my amygdala.
I am coming to see them through Basil’s eyes.
The stormy weather will give way to new light. Basil sees it. He becomes my seeing eye dog.
You were blind, and now you see!
And my Molly...a rescued two year old Shih Tzu from Mexico, who arrived with one eye and several missing teeth , is the most loving and smartest Shih Tzu of the four others over my life time of Shih Tzu's. I had no idea how much I needed Molly......We are together, Blayney..we share despair and heart's full of love and hope through our practices of prayer and mindfulness and love of our soul mate, out beloved puppy. Keep writing . We need you....We need each other. Carol M.