Tuesday, November 2, 2010


Do we take things for granted?  Life, days, hours, moments?  Do we rush right past them and never see what is happening of monumental proportion right in front of us?  Are we too absorbed by our email, iphone, ipad, Blackberry and computer, all rushing us at warp speed toward something of great importance, obliterating all else? Do we look up at the face of the person in front of us and really see them or continue texting, as if there were a huge sense of urgency?

Did you ever wonder what would happen, if you slowed down just a bit? Is it always better to be in a rush than to pause occasionally and be witness to the truly spectacular.  To me the answer is easy.

Writing slows me down. It slows my breathing and takes me to a place where if I don't journey there frequently I feel lost. While writing, I have to find the right words to convey a message succinctly and place these words in rows to make a point, tell a story, or evoke an emotion.  This takes time and thought and peace and sometimes an Indian flute in the background. For me the ocean and mountains also slow me down, putting my life in perspective and with a meaning few might understand. Mossy rocks in a mountain stream, a stone chimney all that remains of a cabin where someone once lived and loved, climbing roses on a rickity old fence, wild strawberries in the forest, horses' breath on a cold morning, and a sliver of the moon hung in an autumn sky, all provide beauty to me that is sometimes much too hard to bear.  

A friend continually asks me if I am happy. It is as if his worth is predicated on my answer. Sometimes I answer 'yes,' and sometimes I think long and hard about the answer and provide none.  And then sometimes I am reminded that the beauty that surrounds me must be magic.

Such beauty can go completely unnoticed by most, and then for a lucky few sometimes it is so overwhelming that tears flow unexpectedly and unashamedly.  

When Trevor met his TRAIN A DOG SAVE A WARRIOR PTSD Support Service Dog for the first time in the shadow of the Center for the Intrepid on the patio of the Fisher House at SAMMC, people soon became aware of the beauty of the moment, the magic.  Hands went over mouths, sun glasses went on so no one could see that something quite special had indeed made them human.  Then complete strangers went up to this soldier and hugged him sobbing.  In the background I heard a whisper, " I can't believe we are witness to this." 

Maybe it was magic.  To me it was pure and simple love. Love of a soldier who desparately needed a friend, a dog who would accompany him  unconditionally through thick and thin and through the hell of PTSD and a war he doesn't want to remember.  It was something quite rare to see complete strangers coming together to celebrate one overwhelming, rare, and perfect wildly insane moment.  In that time and space, I saw fairies turning cartwheels in the twilight of an October evening, where we had all been witness to something that for a brief moment caught us and brought us to life.

Perhaps sometimes our brains get on a rampage of rush, when all that is needed is to open our eyes and see the miracles surrounding us at every corner.    This is the real happiness, the real life, the one we should be living. Are you?


One Thousand Dollars will sponsor a Wounded Warrior and his special magical dog!
Please send tax deductible donations to:
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