Our Spiritual Teachers
Batty sitting on a beautiful volume of Zorba The Greek, gifted to me by my friend David, and Freedom and Death, both great novels by Nikos Kazantzakis. Batty channels Zorba’s wisdom quite effortlessly.
What if our animals are not just passing companions but our spiritual teachers?
The “holiday season” is over, and my family is away. I’ve chosen to turn off the heat and sit in my house (it’s 52 degrees) for a few days of much-needed quiet and discernment time. I feel the cold and enjoy my animals, two cats and a dog, divine companions. They snuggle with me and set the tone of these few retreat days. They warm up against me, bark, whine, and even howl; they head-butt me, plunge under the covers, and pose in the most seductive ways, puffing up their luxurious coats to enhance their warmth, while huddling with me under the blankets during the cold nights.
They are reminders that the world of love is immense; they diminish the sounds of a loud and legitimately outraged world.
I open the windows on a brisk day so that they can meticulously examine every happening of the outdoor world, a small gesture toward indulging the whim of other sentient creatures.
The dog companions me with glee, wherever I choose to take her. Together we explore the world, finding ever more new paths to tread. We forge new neuropathways in our brains, making us stronger with each step so that we can face present and future realities. Each smell brings my dog, Maple Bear, to life—two trains are cause for a howl, and other dogs are opportunities for a shared moment of running so fast that it’s as if her life depends upon beating her five-minute new friend to the ball. Her joy is mine, mine hers.
If I am sad, the animals gather round me, because they know inside of themselves that, if they sit on me, they will heal my heart.
They show me how to live, day by day, minute by minute. Like Zorba the Greek, they are all about embracing the present moment, calmly or with great passion.
They don’t ask anything of the day or the moment (besides more food); nor do they examine the times we’re in. They are simply here, connecting me to myself, companioning me, living embodiments of the angels, tangible and present.
To them, I say thank you, and BRAVO.