Jake; my silent master

As I wake he is there having already awoken with each other family member. Having already greeted and provided smiles to them as they began their day. Jake greets me with smiling eyes and encouragement. He insists they day is glorious. He knows because he woke before the sunrise so that he could perform his morning rites; simple yoga routine, a brisk walk, deep breathing and calmly sitting listening to the morning. He judges today as glorious. He watches me with gentle eyes as I emerge from the bathroom, showered and shaved and in his eyes there is no question that I have the potential to rule the world, to champion a cause to vanquish any opposition. He fails to see what I see in the mirror or maybe I lack his perception of the truth. Jake joins me for breakfast reminding me that preparing food is exciting and joyful. He cares for me in every action; assisting me in my food choice from the fridge, ensuring I make the tea dark enough with his wise and insightful stare. Jake eats thoughtfully no conversation, no distraction, never eating more than is needed and only drinking after his meal. He is mindful.
He returns to his bed as I put my wallet in my pocket. His head is down before I pick up my keys. And his eyebrows rise in a simple roll as I cross the room to the door. He never says goodbye.
Jake is there after work, he is ecstatic to see me. He is overwhelmed with joy. He wiggles like a thousand mice under a rug as he sits on the end of the walkway watching me approach. His touch is so subtle, reassuring, comfortable, kind, and congratulatory. He doesn’t know what battles I had or care if I feel that I won or lost. He greets my like a hero of the day. That I am there is all that matters. Where I was or what I did may have left traces of evidence on my clothes, on my hands and face. But he never judges me by that evidence or even acknowledges it if he finds such traces. He and I pick up where we left off comfortable and understanding. We are companions in each other’s care. And I am home again.
That he is able to care for me again is all he strives to do.
I have seen how Jake greets each of us in turn; conquering heroes all. We are all unique and important to him and he treats us each a bit differently. He has an uncanny ability to change himself to be what each of us needs, at that moment. And I believe he knows how important that role is.
Sometimes he is aloof, others times he is overwhelming and smotheringly loving. Sometimes he is reserve and rigidly obedient. But these roles he adopts to become what the moment requires, what we need him to be.
Jake leads by example.
Jake speaks without words.
His silence is educational, his caring is saintly, his attitude is admirable and something we aspire to emulate.
Jake helps us prepare dinner. Jake oversees home work and board games and evening reading and Jake puts us all to bed. And after he walks through the dark house having spent time in every bedroom listening to the gentle changes in our breathing as we fall off to sleep. Jake sighs and wishes that he could be just like us. He dreams that he could be the champion of his day, bringing home food to share after defeating his foes and winning the battles of the hunt. Jake dreams that he could come with us on te days journey and that he might be better at protecting us.
I wish I could convince him that he has it backwards. I hope and dream of how I can be more like him.

My Darkest hours

My darkest moments arise in fits and starts. They begin to swell silently like a gently growing cloud on the horizon. My darkest moments begin to grey in the evening gloom and root themselves in my soul with fitful sleep if sleep it is. My darkest thoughts bloom from the decaying roots of long dead battles, overcome threats, and poorly lit fears. The storm breaks with a gust of anger, unattached to an event and unconnected to a solution. Loathing flashes like a strobe light. My semblance is that of a frightened cur, with gnashed teeth and reddened glares, quite undeserved and misunderstood by those who approach with loving hands. My mental vantage jumps from one point to another sliding from each grimy wall dirtier and more exhausted for the effort. Looking at a window at the end of this long dank hall, it is a bright spot in a sea of darkness and shadow. The bright light is painful repulsive. And that I don’t desire it hurts as well.
I close my eyes for the sweet flashes. Glimpses of times when I stood pressed to that opening. Forward staring, warm. There was no hallway. The window shows a far clearer and brighter world, and if had the strength I might drag myself to the sill. I might jump through. Back to where I so often reside. Back from this moldering and dank excursion.
My darkest moments feed and grow on fear of the light. They swell and bulge with the worry that there will be more pain. The fear that I will not be strong enough to keep swimming. I worry that they will feel more than pain, I fear that I cannot take that pain into myself that I cannot relieve what is theirs to bear. These darkest of moments grow and swell swallowing me for a time. This time. And even though I might entertain the thought that when I choose to I will close my eyes, and breathe slowly. I will step forward toward the window. I will feel the warmth; I will cast off this fear and live outside in the world of love and comfort. I must also admit this does not fit into the cycle of life. This notion of control does not fit the truth that all matter waxes and wanes in balance. In Bright days contain shadows and darkest nights have stars.
But for now I must continue on deeper into the darkness. And I must experience that which is only mine, I must feel and learn how to understand My darkest moments, though my understanding will mean nothing in the end. It is what it is. I will ride the current without struggling.
OM Mane Padme Hum

Retracting opposites

I find that there are people in the world that are my antagonist by nature. These people are destructively pessimistic. They find themselves in loathsome situations constantly and spread this fact to anyone around them verbally and physically like a virus. These are the people who murmur pleasantries as you greet them , like discarded cigarettes damp and reeking of foulness that robotically rolls out of their mouth as a scripted –“Fine” or “uh-huh”. These are the unique individuals who continue to insert themselves into teams or groups as an authority or out of some unaddressed need for companionship. I always admire the spouses of these people and wonder what or when they saw something different than I what we all see now.
I love these folks! They force me to look at myself and my actions with a bit more scrutiny, just to make sure I don’t sound that way when I am having a rough day. They remind me that things truly are what you make of them and that bad moods and attitudes spread like the flu. I love them because sometimes they are right, sometimes We all would like to rant and rave about how long a line is or how poor the service is at the DMV. I love them because they have such apparent lack of concert for those around them or those who they are raving at. These folks are exactly who I practice metta on –these people need someone to understand their frustrations and someone to absorb their abuse with a smile. They need someone who can listen and agree and then act as a mediator. I love these people who seem to be so much the opposite of myself because they make me a better person. And I have found that they also make very good friends.