George the Dog

 It’s one of those mornings.  I woke up late, so I’m already behind in getting ready for the day.  My teenage son has missed the bus, and so I need to drive him to school.  My middle child has a field trip today, and we need to make a last-minute trip to Subway to grab him a sandwich.  My 10-year-old is making potholders and watching television instead of getting ready for school.  Plus, there are morning chores to be done – laundry, dishes, feed the pets, etc.  I resign myself to the fact that I’m going to be late for work.  Oh, and did I mention that it’s raining cats and dogs?  

At last, I get all of the children out the door and off to school.  

 

Normally, at this point, I would be able to turn my attention entirely to getting myself ready for work.   But today we are pet-sitting for a friend of ours, and it occurs to me that George the dog still needs to be taken for his morning walk.  I am not looking forward to walking this dog in the rain, but I put on my sweatshirt, grab the leash, and out the door we go.  

George the dog is a slowpoke.  My mind is darting back and forth between the events of the morning and the tasks on my to-do list for the afternoon.  Each time George stops to sniff the wet grass or wiggle his way under a rain-covered bush, I find myself growing more and more impatient.  “Come on,” I say, and I tug on his leash.  There is nothing about this walk that is enjoyable to me.  All I can think about is the day’s agenda.  I just want to get home, take a shower, and get to work already.

And then something miraculous happens.   For a moment while George is engrossed in his sniffing, I turn my head toward the pond behind me.  I notice a little tree hanging over the water, creating a tiny alcove on the edge of the pond.  As raindrops fall on the leaves, they gather together and form larger drops which are falling to the water in a random, harmonious symphony.  Each drop creates a series of concentric ripples, and so the many falling droplets create a beautiful pattern of little circles moving toward each other on the surface of the water.  The morning light is hitting the edge of the pond just right, and everything is so very green.   

I lift my head and look around me.  Despite the rain, the moment is perfect.  The pond, the path, the grass, the trees.  The rain on my face.  And George the dog, still sniffing.  In this one moment, which feels like an eternity, the whole quality of my day shifts.  

Every once in a while, I am reminded of the tremendous gift that lies in my awareness of the present moment.  It’s so easy to get wrapped up in my thoughts of the past and my plans for the future.  To be truly present takes practice. Thanks to George the dog, I continue my day from this space of awareness, and I am filled with a deep and renewed sense of gratitude.

 

~REBECCA