Dissonance

Misery is always happening; but sometimes we can make a small difference

The world is too much with us. Sometimes, on a beautiful day like this, in my rich, full life, I think about what must be happening somewhere else in the world: in a terrifying detention center, or a filthy animal pen, at the end of chain, in a hospital room, in a torture cell—for human or animal—in a war torn city. And I am stunned by the reality that these things are happening now, somewhere else, while I sit in comfort, peace, and safety.

It isn’t fair. And I can’t fix it all. The horror of it can shatter me, because so much of it is beyond me. I can’t help everywhere. But maybe I can help somewhere, here and there, in places I can see. And I do try.

Here, the sunlight is sparkling through the trees after two days of storms. We had only rain and some wind, and a little mild thunder. It was enough to make the dogs miserable, and we spent two hours last night in the living room as I played the piano for them. They seem to like not just the music, but the deep vibration of the instrument. Both of them like to lie underneath it while I play in a storm.
Eventually I got tired, and by then, they were tired, too, and not a little bit stoned on doggy CBD. The storms had diminished to distant thunder—still worrying to Eli, but tolerable—so we all had a little dinner and went to bed early.

There’s a food drive—there’s always a food drive—that I plan to shop for today, and I think the annuals are finally on sale at the garden center, so maybe I will finally put some pots together as a little act of hope and beauty. The world so desperately needs both. I need both.

Someone posted today something that captures why kindness and decency matter. Rowena said:

Every tiny creature

is carrying a life

that matters deeply to itself:

the bee searching for water;

the bird hiding from storms;

the frog resting in cool grass.

They are not background decoration.

They are living souls

trying to survive beside us.

The words apply to every human soul, as well, and we are as cruel to other human beings as we are to animals. May we remember to reach out to other creatures—human and non-human— with compassion and respect.

Today is the anniversary of my father’s death. He was a good man, and a kind one. He suffered, and I felt helpless. I stayed in the room with him to the end, even though I don’t think he knew. Our dog knew he was gone, and woke my elderly mother, sleeping at home a few miles away. It was midnight. She was sitting at the kitchen table when I got there.

It was a long time ago, but sorrow lives forever.

***

”And all shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well.”~Julian of Norwich

These posts are about finding the beauty in daily life, even amid the craziness, uncertainty, and anxiety. Reality is not going away, but these are the only days we get, so we have to relish their small beauties while we have them. If you are a paid subscriber, please know how deeply grateful I am for your support. The kindness and enthusiasm of your comments buoy me and keep me writing, but the paid subscriptions are an extra vote of confidence I truly appreciate. These posts will always be free, however, so if all you can do is share, that is helpful, too. Whatever you decide, I’m glad you’re here.

And now for your gratuitous dog photos:

Eli slept in the bathtub all night. He leaves a great deal of fur behind.

My dogs are actually more essential than gratuitous.