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.
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.
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.