Sunday, February 24, 2013

Just to Dance

An early hour this morning spent at Dog Beach. A rapturous time for a dog, where all the energies of life distill into a pristine combination of sunrise, sea and sand. Manna pulls me earnestly to the point where she can be let off the leash, and speeds without fear or hesitation into the fray of the leaping, running, splashing canine heaven. Dogs of all shapes, sizes and breeds seem to be as one as all joyously cavort at the edge of earth and sea. Spontaneously, a celebration of life and being alive, as if this moment was all there is. I watch and learn; they are right. This is our only moment, because life has no guarantees, no promises to keep. The time we live, moment to moment , is all we really have.

As I have grown older, this concept of life and the transience of it has come more to the forefront of my being, as I suppose it does for most people. And yet, it does not scare me, or make me anxious in living my life. As I watch Manna play with the other dogs wholeheartedly, without  even a a crumb of misgiving, I learn again how important it is for us to put away those fears and anxieties that hold us back from being truly ourselves. Of the joyful pursuit of life. Living on the edge of sea and sand, between sky and earth, within the space of ambiguity that makes us both human and spiritual, bringing us together in amazing ways under a universal umbrella some of us may call God, or Nature, or simply just being in this wonderful universe we call our home.

I still have a lot to learn as I watch Manna simply be a creature on her own terms, one that does not dwell on what can be, but simply what is, and finding a true, unbroken, and evolving happiness in just that. Living in the rhythm of life that manifests itself in total love. I have a lot to learn. I have a lot to learn.

As C and I watch the playful dance of the dogs, running, jumping, interrelating with each other, I admire their honesty and purpose. Souls that communicate in ways we cannot comprehend, but seem to work for them. The heartbeat of each moment becomes the wisdom of their being, and their capacity of relating to the world and each other. I will think on this, and hopefully gain something from it. Maybe, if I take what is in front of me to heart, I will learn just to dance.

We will soon walk back across the sand, leaving this beach to others, and maybe, just maybe, I will pick up a shell along the way, put it to my ear, and listen for a song to dance to. Then the three of us  will dance all the way home.


1 comment:

claudia dixon said...

I, too, have watched dogs at play and envied their energy and spontaneity, their singular focus, noses so riveted to the world they can hardly lift there heads to listen to you call them. But the miracle is they do, eventually listen to us, and for this attachment we adore them. Because they shape their lives to our needs, our patterns, because they comfort us in our loneliness and do not pity us. What do they read in the smells of sand and shit and seaweed? What worlds do they see there? We will never know. But when they come back to us we are filled with gratitude. We are not dogs. We have other worlds to read, other purposes to discover, other masters to fit our lives around, and pasts to ponder and futures to build. They have their natures and we ours to fulfill, but it is a blessing to us both that we can keep each other company on the journey