Sunday, July 15, 2012

It's a Jungle in Here

I'm in the belly of July, our peak season at the beach, and this week I had a two day show and orders to fill so no time to venture outside and commune with the wildlife. But there is always wild life lurking around corners and doorways in my house in the forms of Buddha and Erb. They are a limitless source of lessons, teaching me about curves and angles, constant movement and the expansive softness of rest.

I feel I should add a brief background since their stories are rather unusual. A few years back, I went through a difficult time. It's not important what happened since everyone has their own stories. But while navigating through this unfamiliar territory, I kept having dreams of a turquoise Buddha circling my bed on the ceiling, clockwise, round and round. After a bit of research I found some articles telling me it was a celestial Buddha, a healing Buddha, and to see one is a very good omen. Stay with me now.

My last feline friend, Kizzie, had passed away six months previously, way too soon for such a magnificent king. The Crooked Little House had become solemn and still, lacking luster. So in the middle of all my drama, I decided to adopt another friend to help take the chill out of my little abode. I went to our local shelter and in the far, back cage was a beautiful, buff-colored boy with copper penny eyes, missing half an ear. I asked the attendant about him and she replied, "Oh, that's Buddha". His fate was sealed.
Whenever I had a rough few days, I would wake in the morning to find Buddha had placed all his toys in a circle around my bed. This circling happened every time I needed healing. And to this day, even if I have a cold, an arc of fish, mice and toy birds greet me upon awakening.

Now Erb, my tuxedo cat, was discovered by my son in a parking lot at the tender age of six weeks, covered in blood, chin ripped down and a paralyzed left front leg. Josh scooped him up and got him to the vet who felt he had either been hit by a car or tossed from one. With micro stitches to the gum line, his chin was reattached. His leg will never have feeling again, but his shoulder works.


                                 My son, a trauma surgeon, named him Erb, a long story regarding medical terminology. I find it easier just to tell people he's British. I agreed to babysit Erb while Josh went to climb Kilimanjaro, but when he returned, I couldn't give him up. And don't feel too badly for Erb. He keeps up with Buddha easily, flying through the house.




                                                                                                                                                                      I have found the most meaningful subjects can be those closest to us, both indoors and out in our own backyards.
                                                     

To hold a living creature,
To learn its loveliness,
To feel its heart beat,
In our hands,
To know its trust,
Is at last to understand,
That we are kin,
Is to rejoice in life,
Is to lose all loneliness.

                                                  -Pam Brown




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