See how naughty, and muddy, I can be?

See how attentive and cute I can be?

This is Tom the rescued, and apparently seriously abused, Golden Retriever out in the forest near Apeldoorn. The Reverend, who is now his ‘person’, senses Tom didn’t have a chance to play in his early life and feels it is important for him to now catch up on puppy activities. Here Tom is doing the ‘look at me’ routine before going down for more mud-fest fun. Later he cavorted in a stream and then kept out of puddles, with strong encouragement from his person!

It is touching to witness the development of trust. Both dog and man need to grow the mutual trust. A nip can set the process back, but not for long. The desire to be loved overcomes the fear very quickly. I found myself having to learn dog language and dog training too. On occasion Tom would emit a low dull rumbling sound as I entered the house. On such occasions my instruction was to ignore him. By not making eye contact and talking to him I was not rewarding him. Apparently one of the hardest things for a dog is for the pack to ignore it. I was number two in the pack and the Reverend definitely number one, none the less matters did not go past a growl. The best pack leaders are hero’s, worthy of being looked up to. Tom definately looks up to his person, and well he might. I do too. To rule by fear does not last for long.

As with dogs so with us humans.

I drink coffee at my peril, my physical peril that is. But, but, but…I like the taste. So I drink coffee, just now and again, and suffer the consequences. Unfortunately the consequences are getting more severe. My gallbladder tells me all about it for weeks after a cup or three, not just hours or days afterwards. A mild addiction perhaps? And self deception in operation? Just one cup won’t do any harm. Or, more delusive still, I’ll just have one cup, to prove I am free to choose. The writing is now on the wall. I quit!

A documentary film making in America made a film in 2004 called Super Size Me. Probably everybody but me knows about this film. Anyway, part way through his 30 day experiment of eating nothing but MacDonalds food he is seen talking to a nutritionist. By this time Morgan, the film maker, is suffering seriously from the effects of his fat and sugar rich diet. He has gone from an above average healthy and active man to a depressed and lethargic shadow of his former self. He reports that the one thing that makes him feel better is to eat another MacDonald meal, even though afterwards he feels ill. The nutritionist remarked casually, Oh, you’re now addicted.

Well, I’m not about to take a stance on coffee or fast food, or any other matter for that matter. However it is interesting to note the architecture of addiction, is it not? Too easy to spot the addict on the street and miss the one gazing out from the mirror.

Here is part of a letter from a reader:
Hi, Something in your blog reminded me of when I lived in the boonies. While walking in (from the road) one day, the snow was just starting to melt, I noticed something beautiful off in the brush. It was a soda can someone had tossed. What was interesting was my reaction. The beauty was still there and it was a soda can. At the time it reminded me of a peacocks feather. To this day, for some reason, (the sight of) discarded cans can bring on a certain appreciation.

In a similar vein I remember well one winter afternoon going into the parking lot at Shasta Abbey. The snow was melting and turning to slush. My usual way would have been to pick across this unpleasant sea with revulsion. Not so this particular time. To my great amazement what I saw was perfection, an icy beauty in the grey ugliness! Yes, and coming upon slushy streets has not been the same since.

It would seem that this ‘seeing with new eyes’ comes unbidden and is probably not an uncommon experience or particularly Buddhist or ‘spiritual’. It just happens.

Have you ever watched a blue heron fishing? There it is standing stock still readying itself to snap up an unsuspecting fish? For an age you and it wait, but nothing happens. You start to doubt, Is it real? It doesn’t move, then gradually there is the dawning realization that it isn’t real, it’s plastic!

Plastic flowers too can be so real seeming, it’s hard distinguish them from the real thing. While in the Temple in The Netherlands a few of us gathered for a meeting beside the fish pond where a blooming Water Lilly sat amidst glistening leaves. I kidded the guests, It’s not real you know. A shadow of a doubt was sewn, successfully but not for long! Just what is it about coming upon the man-made in nature that is both strangely attractive and deeply disturbing at the same time?

In the photo above all is well with the world, nature is going about it’s business of blooming and leafing. But what is that rising above the bushes? A head. A real head, or what? In actual fact it’s the Angel of the North standing beside the A1 greeting visitors with wings outstretched. Art placed in natural surroundings, especially sculpture on any scale, finds me examining my conceptions of…well gardening actually!

I think the disturbance is about the truth of impermanence. Creating successful gardens is, it seems to me, about working with impermanence with a light and playful hand. And I hope gardeners will continue to place sculptures within their creations. Yes, and I hope to see the occasional plastic pink flamingo or pixie in their shrubberies to disturb us even more!

It’s good to have our realities challenged.