Lessons from my Dogs,
Live for Today
Joy and woe are woven fine
A clothing for the soul divine
And under every grief and pine
Runs a joy with silken twine
William Blake
As bombs fall and wars are waged around the world, it becomes hard to hold onto the light—hard not to grieve for the innocent animals, the children, the planet itself, none of whom ever asked to inherit such violence. And yet I return again to the words of Margaret Mead, and repeat to myself: “Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world. Indeed, it is the only thing that ever has.”
I think of the thousands who walked behind the Aloka and the Peace Monks, who poured into the streets for the No Kings rallies—ordinary people choosing, in ordinary moments, to be something more. I think of the young who speak of organic farms and living gently upon the land, as though the earth were still something worth tending, still something that might yet be saved.
How I wish I could borrow Paisley's world for a little while. Out in the field, nose to ground, she hunts to her heart’s content, blissfully, beautifully unaware of bombs and broken lives. She did tell me of the female coyote (whose voice together with family I heard singing into the dusk-dark hills) and said she would be respectful and wary. Or Sparkle who, already in from her own hunting adventures, now lies curled under her blanket like a secret kept safe. But I have the news at my fingertips and, being human, can’t help but read more.
Perhaps the most profound act available to us is the simplest and the hardest: to remain awake to what is still good, while quietly, faithfully adding our drop. And so, I watch as the resident black snake resurfaces, a dark ribbon of renewal, silently reminding me of rebirth, or the birds who fill the air with their spring chorus. I lift my eyes to the blossoms opening on the fruit trees, and breathe in the viburnum—always for me that first, sweet breath of spring—and I let the natural world remind me that beauty has not yet abandoned this brief moment we call life. Finally, I turn to my gentle teachers and ask what I should do. And they answer, without hesitation, without complication:
Live simply, love much, have reverence for all life, and live for today.
Paisley thinks she’s a puppy.
Sparkle walks along a sparkly river.
Simple peace.