The dog

He stood there alone. All around him lay destruction. Still smouldering was the skeletal remains of his homestead. There was an eerie silence apart from the occasional breeze and the rustling of some debris. At his feet lay the mortal remains of his erstwhile life partner, now a lifeless corpse no different from the rocks that lay alongside.

He had passed the anguished time, the extreme fear of pending loss. It was all lost. There was nothing left. His fields were blackened and charred as far as the eye could see. He was numbed as he stood fixed in an eternal moment of nothingness.

Slowly some thoughts began to trickle through the undefined fog, fragmented and random. Was there a higher meaning for this devastation, this end? Was it fortuitous as are all devastations since the beginning of time? What were his thoughts and feelings in that recent past time, in that life now gone forever? They were dealing with his partner’s illness which had no real prognosis. She was already making her peace with her inevitable end. And yes there was no hope for her and for them as physical life partners. And yes the drought had been severe for three years and daily life was tough and thankless. And he had begun to feel hopeless and helpless in the face of the relentless challenges.

Was there some bigger and all pervading space with which we and all that we are, eternally connect? Did it not influence our origins as physical beings and continually reflect who we are and materialize that which is synchronous with all that we are, always?

If it is so, then standing in the desolation of all that devastation and loss with no spark of hope and inspiration, he would surely succumb soon in some way. For that would be synchronous with his being.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw a movement. Turning towards it he was surprised to see a small animal moving towards him. It was a small mongrel of a dog that ran up to him and sat before him, gazing at him with its large dark eyes. It stood up, wagged its tail and moved closer to him and again sat and gazed up at him. He reached out a hand towards the small mutt who licked his fingers.

Kneeling and gently stroking the dog he began to feel some connection again. Deep within him there was still a flame burning. And he knew with a real knowing in that moment that he would prevail. Yes, he would grieve for his losses and deal with the challenges which lay ahead. But he would overcome. For in his darkest hour a crack of light had appeared. This moment would sustain him because he had felt the synchronous connection with that bigger thing and it had answered him with the light that ignited his inner flame.

                                                              Copyright reserved - Ian Weinberg 2017

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