I make no claim for originality or profound wisdom in what I write here. Still, I offer these thoughts in hopes that others may share these perceptions, that still others may use my thoughts to go deeper, and that still others will take issue with all I say here if they so choose. My thoughts will go from puppies to tulips and then to human beings, hopefully weaving a thread of meaning for all. I can only tell you with certainty that my journey into self-awareness continues, and I hope yours does as well. The following writing recounts some of my journey.
Our neighbor’s six month old puppy, Koda, is spending several days with us and providing much joy and sometimes less than delightful trouble. This morning I watched our dog, Reggie, and Koda play together in our living and dining area. They had already spent a good time running and playing outside, but apparently that was not enough for these two. Reggie had a big squeaky toy in his mouth and was aging Koda on to chase him and try to get it away from him. Reggie seemingly had no concept of allowing Koda to win occasionally, however, and the usually imperturbable Koda soon gave up the attempt.
Later, they were once again chasing with Koda now taking the lead, possessing yet another toy, and with Reggie in hot pursuit – flying up and down stairs and from room to room at top speed. Some undeniable shift in balance had taken place within the intervening minutes.
Now I weave another incident into this story. Before going out to dinner together last night, my partne, Ruth and I marveled at the beauty of gold, white and flaming red tulips in the common garden for our nine member condominium community. Ruth planted these with loving care a year ago and was now especially enjoying both their beautiful blooming and their tenacity in surviving the occasional cold weather and snow during late April and early May.
We arrived home from the restaurant to find every tulip trampled and broken. Our dogs were indoors, so they were not the culprits. Besides, they had always been careful to avoid these flowers. I asked a neighbor who was sunning herself on her patio whether she had noticed a disturbance, and she said: “Well, there was a kid here not too long ago!”
I felt anger well up in me at her apparent unconcern for the flowers and for her ease at suggesting the child might automatically be held responsible. I wondered why she had taken no effort to control the situation if she had noticed any disturbance. Perhaps it all happened in utter silence without her notice. This would have been surprising considering the devastation that greeted our return.
I realized quickly though that I had to get beyond this state of mind. Both Ruth and I knew full well that our neighbor was resentful of community spending for flowers and therefore cared nothing for the tulips at all. I also found it impossible to hold anger against a child. Breaking down tulips might be a joyous experience for any boy on a bike, and if I did think about a neighborhood kid riding through on a bicycle and crushing the tulips I would have to view the situation with compassion.
We live in the midst of poverty here and the children living around us have little concept of being cared for and loved judging from what I hear and feel from the surrounding environment. Crushing flowers would only reflect a local child’s sense of being so crushed by parents, older siblings and the environment in general.
“Beauty is ephemeral!” we both thought. But then I thought, “no, it’s not!” Beauty is eternal so long as there is consciousness of beauty, only particular manifestations are ephemeral – and this is true of all manifestations whether or not we call them beautiful. All manifestations shift and endure here only for an interval: no manifestation is eternal. Beauty is a quality we sense permeating all we call beauti-ful. The quality exists independently of all its perceived manifestations.
This brings me back to the two dogs playing. They are so particularly beautiful as they are now. No other two dogs could be as they were on this particular day. They will remain wonderful in my memory and in the consciousness of all those who love them for as long as any of us are here to maintain that particular awareness. Still, they will never be exactly like this again, not even tomorrow. Tomorrow they will be new beings in a sense, new manifestations of their inimitable selves. The same is true for you and for me.
Reggie and Koda will continue to mature and age. One day they will no longer want to play together. Such lively movements as they displayed today may no longer be possible for them in even a few short years. They will manifest themselves differently every day of their lives, in fact every moment of their lives, as long as they appear on this plane.
I know also that the likelihood of my continuing to manifest myself in anything like my present form becomes increasingly less likely as my years go by. This is not morbidity, it is simply a fact. From where I am now, my presence here in this form has a much higher possibility of ending before theirs than it would have had even a year or so ago.
We must appreciate each other here while we can, simply for the joy of sharing being in this form. No matter what we are otherwise, this form and our togetherness in this way is not present forever. Carry me in memory if I go from you first and I will carry you in turn and await you wherever we go from here, though I know not how or in what form that will be! Love surrounds us, embraces us – eventually subsumes us from this particular form of contrary nature once again into itself.
We view ourselves here as a continuum: we are not so, not in this form. In this form we are ever new. We are ever momentary projections of a way we choose to manifest within this plane of life. You are different from moment to moment as am I. Your moods and thus your entire self can change in a flash, and this is true for me as well.
The same is true for every being we encounter here. We find our real continuity only when we touch and become aware of ourselves as we are beyond this plane – ourselves who observe us here and participate from there through our experiences, learning and also teaching our physical selves as they commune with us on this plane.
We are not bound to what we are here. We are not bound to our attitudes, our reactions, our thoughts, our whims, our feelings or anything else at all. We do not have to be hateful, we do not have to be loving. We do, however, have to choose what we are – how we manifest – in any moment, and that choice we can always change again. Not knowing ourselves beyond projection, we often do manifest differently and in contradiction, sometimes from one moment to the next. Not knowing the center we are often unaware of the significance of our choices and this often brings sorrow in the end.
We must therefore seek constancy in our true selves as our ultimate awareness comes only from the true selves within us. These true selves see beyond temporary concern for our manifested world and our myriad feelings that so often collide within us as we play our parts here without a centered view of who we are beyond each momentary role.
I often played alone as a child. I would imagine myself a soldier fighting an overpowering enemy, facing down opposing forces on all sides. Quickly though I could change the game and become a detective, taking no more than an instant to alter the entire scene. Friends and I could also do this, though negotiation for roles usually took longer than an instant, becoming thereby perhaps an even more significant lesson for how we adjust roles in adult life.
All this is reminiscent of the book “The Games People Play,” but here I am considering purely our games as demonstrating our actual shifting projection of self in everyday interaction. We fool ourselves if we think the physical self who acts or feels one way is the same as the self that acts or feels another way. Our continuing selves are behind our momentary feelings and actions and an inner voice will always try to inform our physical selves as to whether or not our present feelings and actions remain attuned to our true selves.
Even for a lengthy portion of adult life I felt as though I were only playing a role here and that I could not find my real self. My occupation as a singer – a performer – helped to enhance that feeling. I have since sought my true self behind the projection I had manufactured for myself both to block myself from the pain of childhood and to provide myself with a sense of worth. Gradually I have found myself over time. I cannot say that it came in one moment of sudden revelation, nor can I say that the connection is yet complete. I can say though that my seeming failures have provided me with more insight than any supposed success. I am at least sufficiently in touch with my real self to know now that what I experience here as self and world is in no way the main show.
To quiet the mind, to meditate, to center oneself is to re-establish communion with our true self who remains in communion with the heart of being itself.
Love is the heart of all being, for love promotes all things and destroys nothing. Within love all things grow and develop and nothing can pass away without becoming yet another manifestation of being. We know this at our core when in touch with our true selves. We often forget it in the games we play. Let us not now forget once again to remember!
