Words, Images and Canines

I relate with images, words, and canines,
easier than I do with adult humans.

I AM accumulated air and extracted breath,
‘til the day I die. (Die? A whole other topic.)

I AM what/where/how I AM,
now and not.

Not until Now
means Now, Now,
each moment a Now.

Words with images (just those 3 words)
tear me up AND provide joy.
(Weeping willow tear, not tear on a nail.)

It’s like being on a see-saw.
I can be high or low or perfectly balanced.

I used to be low a lot. Hmmm . . .
This is where distraction kicks in.
(Don’t wanna’ ‘feel’ a lot right now).

Got the headphones on. 
Typing in Microsoft Word 2008 for MAC.
Rampal Greatest Hits, Vol 1, 1975
Ave Maria by Charles Gounod is playing.
This tune and Largo by George Frideric Handel
are my absolute favorites. I must have played each
35 million times, since they first arrived on cassette tape.

Here are worded images.
I am conscious enough to know
body-armor may be invisible,
but the consequence of wearing it is not.

Warriors are not all ways brave, or Indian.
I am engaged in ceremony with Natives and Spirit.
Day 4 on the hill with a blanket and sacred pipe,
almost time to rejoin the community.
I lay there, break of dawn, eyes closed.

The floor of mind extends as a bright, flat, endless desert.
I am calm and relaxed. 
In the distance a tiny dark blotch appears.
I observe it grow. Chills crawl up my spine.

The dark moves closer. The chills increase. 
The fear is about to engulf me. 
I leap up and out of the sacred circle.
I start to run, look back and stop.

A deer fawn stands in place of fear.
We lock gazes. I am then alone.

I laugh and cry and laugh some more.
Warriors are not all ways brave.

I love Kaia beyond words and images.
I say, “My dog . . .”, yet know she is not mine.

We are intimately entwined energies,
when I AM here and now Present.

Every sniff Kaia takes is brand new.
She lives her present of presence.

One morning I asked, “Can I be in two places at once?”
She paused on the trail, looked back at me and said,
“Not with your belief parameters”.

I know, some of you will say (or think) “Dogs don’t talk.
Did her lips mouth the words when she spoke?”

I don’t recall if her mouth and the words were in synch.
I do know, she turned and passed that message on to me,
wrapped with a bow.

Before Kaia, there was Reggie, a Miniature Schnauzer.
He was also a Buddha dog. Everyone wanted to touch him. He died at age 7 in a head-on auto collision. That collision rearranged my marbles. I have had a number of rearrangements on this journey.

I am moving fast, . . . unreined
“WHOA WHoa Whoaaa . . . slow down there pardner”.
OK, . . . we’re back on track.

Folks say, “She, (He, It) was too young to die”. 
I wrinkle my brow. No one or thing is too young to die(change).
Change (coming and going) takes place within, without, and all about,
consistently and continually. Unpredictable change is inevitable.

It took words and images to relate about my canine companions.
Underneath the surface of expressed thoughts is the deepest connection of all.

You may see a man and a dog. A mother and child. Lovers! Have you experienced the exchange and melding of love, the pulse of nature flowing within and between us? Some folks have.

It’s more difficult for me to experience this openness with other adult humans. Fear, Trust and Intimacy are key words that affect my curious choices. Unpredictable change is inevitable, so there may be a saving Grace.

I love kids. We connect easily, most times. (A story about me and children in a remote Thai village just surfaced. Another time, maybe.) Is there a similarity/connection between young children and dogs? There must be. I relate easily with both.

It’s 10:30 pm on January 13th. I am exhausted from today’s post-pounding, fence building project, and from writing this since last night. All ‘thought full seeds’ viewed on www.frednicholson.com was done with me, not by me

Night-y night
may blessings abound