I live a Spartan lifestyle; and spend my time, for the most part, in relative solitude. I have a lot of friends, and even more acquaintances, so it’s not as if I don’t have the option to socialize if I should choose to do so. I am an admitted lone wolf. I do better on my own. While I have a genuine empathy and love for all of humanity, I don't suer fools well, and am, unfortunately, increasingly cynical of life in general.
I used to consider myself a fairly spiritual individual, and have never stopped seeking something more than what I experience in the physical world. I was raised Catholic, but walked away from that a long time ago. An important mentor of mine likes to say, and I am paraphrasing, “How small is the God we imagine, in comparison to the God that is?”
I don’t have much use for the religious side of the holiday season, and I certainly have no use for the commercial side. I was never comfortable with the fact that, as a society, we have to set aside time during the year to be good to others, and then treat them like shit the rest of the year. It’s no coincidence that the Golden Rule is the foundation of every major organized religion in the world, no matter what they name their deity. So why can’t we “do unto others…” all year long?
It should be no surprise that I spent my Thanksgiving Day holiday with my dog, Lobo, and no one else. Like I said, I just do better on my own. We actually had a nice day, a day that included a couple of nice long walks, and the next day, Black Friday as it is known, would be more of the same. Lobo is my constant companion, with an unbelievable work ethic. A 65-pound mix of Chesapeake Bay Retriever and Chocolate Lab, he is an energetic, outgoing, and very intelligent creature. He takes his job as my partner very seriously; he shows up for work every day, and gives me 110%. He is constantly present, in the moment, and ready to follow me anywhere I lead. He provides unquestioning loyalty and love, a ton of laughs, and a model for me to try to live by. So he more than deserves the nice long walks we take, and he, as he does with everything else, makes the most of them.
When we walk he is unquenchable in his desire to take in everything around him. His nose is constantly gathering information as we move along, his ears yank his attention in multiple directions, his eyes jump to confirm what his other senses are already telling him…a bird taking flight, a man on a bike, the smell of food coming from a burger joint, another dog on a leash across the street, a cat in a yard. At first he tries to pull me along; he leans forward into his collar, and does his best to tug me down the street. I pull him back to my side the best I can, but I know, at least at first, I am fighting his excitement and exuberance at being out in the world. The most practical, and easiest cure for this is to simply walk. Once we have a mile or so under our heals, he relaxes and slows down, he seems to understand that we have ventured far from home, and we won’t be returning anytime soon, so he can now enjoy his trek.
Today’s walk was one of these, and we headed north from our house for a good mile and a half before turning east and covering another mile of sidewalk. We live in the city, so the scenery is a mix of everything you can think of on a busy city street, lots of interesting people bustling in and out of any number of shops, restaurants, and storefronts. A bevy of interesting sights, sounds, and scents. We turn south and start to head back in the direction of home. We actually meander a sort of serpentine route the rest of the way…south, then west, then south, then west again.
About four blocks from my house, we cross the street at a four-way intersection. On the corner across from us is a bus stop, and waiting at the bus stop is an old woman in a wheelchair, being attended to by a younger woman. The older woman is actually in a semi-reclined position in the chair, with her feet extended out in front of her, instead of in a normal seated position. A light blue wool afghan blanket covers her legs. It is readily apparent that this woman is not only old, but in relatively poor health. The younger woman stands behind her, and she is speaking rapidly is Spanish. I speak some basic Spanish, but only when I understand the context, and it’s spoken at a rate I can decipher. This lady was at full speed, so I had no clue what she was speaking to the old lady about.
The old woman’s eyes spotted us as we approached, or more specifically, she spotted Lobo. I saw the faintest hint of a smile on her face as she took him in, and appreciated the way she was looking at him. She stopped listening to the other woman as we got closer, and she leaned up and forward to get a better look at Lobo. I walked over and let Lobo introduce himself. He stepped up to her carefully, and extended his head into her lap. He sniffed at the afghan, and took in the information contained in its many scents. The old woman ran her hand over Lobo’s head; then again, this time letting is velvet soft ear slide between her fingers. She smiled broadly, showing me her gold-rimmed teeth. Then she raised the hand that she had been petting Lobo with, and she blessed us with the classic Catholic “sign-of-the-cross”, then she did it again, and, finally, a third time. As Lobo and I walked away, I thanked her for her blessing, and wished both of them a good day.
I could totally appreciate what that old woman was doing. She had nothing to give us in return but the love in her heart. No other way to say thanks, than to extend that which was within her. That’s a huge lesson for anyone, but especially for a cynical guy like me. The old woman and I do not share the same spiritual values or beliefs, but we didn’t have to. It didn’t matter. We were simply experiencing life in the moment, appreciating what was happing to us and for us, and we were thankful for it. Life is a gift, no matter who your God is. We we’re both simply “doing unto others” in the best way we could at the time.
Excellent!
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