When I feed a creature
I anticipate a joyful
gallop towards the food. (or at the very least, a shuffle.)

When it rains and
it’s windy outside
I worry about shelter (for them).

When I approach with food
I do not expect them
to chew my shoe. (Weird.)

When food goes uneaten
For over 24 hours
I worry. (especially if there’s not been a sighting.)

When I check the fencing
my heart
is in my mouth. (escape is the worst-case scenario)

When I call tenderly from
a 2nd-floor window
I do not expect a response. (especially if the window is closed).

When I call gently from
beside fresh lettuce leaves
I hope for a sighting. (a rustle in the undergrowth, perhaps)

When I persistently call, whisper,
plead, long for, hope for,
anticipate a sighting. (I’m on a road to nowhere.)

What creature is this?

This post is for all creatures everywhere – contrariously orientated, hairy, not hairy, constructed to defy nature (but functional never the less), and more. And all those attributes we know, love, lose our hearts to, lose our tempers with, and more. And all that finickiness around; food, shelter, being locked in, being locked out, food, free feeding, not free feeding, grooming, bedding, social difficulty with ‘others’ – and more.

And finally here is to us. those creatures who are SLEEP DEPRIVED due to; demands for food at 3.00 am (or whenever), who respond to the demanding cry to be let out. Constantly for most of ‘sleep time’, and more. Us who lay awake at night listening to the rain and worrying ourselves awake about ‘shelter’. All this and more has us framed as hapless, hopeless. SERVANTS.

And we serve them anyway!

This post was originally published in July 2007. True then, true now. Going to bed for in the morning I’m off and away for a couple of weeks of rest and renewal. One week house sitting and then another week flat sitting.

At times like this
when it’s getting late and
I need to get to bed and
I’d like to write a post, yet
there are SO many possibilities and
I can’t make up my mind
what to write about
I usually just go to bed, instead.

Many thanks to Sangha friends in Vancouver for the use of the photograph.

Art? Not necessarily pretty or beautiful. Or simple to comprehend. Tis our lives lived.

In this tradition, we do not use petitioning prayer but that doesn’t stop some of us reverting to childhood habits, when in extremity. All the while knowing full well that the universe is not answerable to my personal will. So why the other evening was I saying, as if using a mantra:

Let there be thunder!
Let there be lightning!
Let there be rain!
and wind!

Like many people in Britain, I was extremely uncomfortable with the air pressure that builds up around thunderstorms. My mind had turned to ‘mush’ and it seemed impossible to be still mentally or physically. But I sat anyway, in extremity, with a short blast of the above ‘mantra’ to help myself. Sometimes it just helps to recite a mantra, silently to oneself while knowing full well that the universe is not answerable to my personal will.

I get that.

Remember that poem by A.A.Milne

If there
were not
‘letting go’.
Life would be
hell!