My MayaPapaya

This is my dog Maya.  She will be 14 years old later this year.  I think she was born sometime in September.  Which makes sense cause she's totally a Virgo.

I think that dogs become more and more angelic as they age.  They just seem to have a deep sense of peace about them that is extremely comforting.  Things bother them less and less.  They move slower and more deliberately.  They somehow exhibit an almost spiritual wisdom with their presence alone.  

And they start to develop problems associated with old age.  Maya has had some issues with her hips.  She's gotten quite gray around the mouth.  And we had to have an abscessed tooth taken care of about six months ago.  She's also getting a bit deaf.

And she's about just the sweetest creature I encounter on a daily basis.  

Which makes these developing problems all the more difficult to face.  Lately she seems to have problems with standing up after she eats.  She'll get a glazed look in her eyes and kinda loose control of her legs.  It'll get to the point where she just falls over.  

I am usually made aware of this by the sound of her falling on the hard wood floors of my house.  I'll hear the scrabbling of toenails and then a dull thud.  But no whining or whimpering. 

So I run to her side and help her up again.  If she's not too bad she'll kind of wander around looking like she wants to lay down, but she's afraid to commit to it because she knows its going to hurt.  If she can't stand up I'll hold her for a while.  Maybe brace my knee under her belly.  Just try anything I can to make sure she's in as little pain as possible.  

During an episode last night I picked her up as gently as I could and laid her on her side on her blanket.  Then I laid on the floor next to her and petted her for a while, trying to calm her down.  It worked.  The sound of gas whistling out of her behind was all the proof I needed.  After a few minutes I moved back to the couch and continued the movie I was watching. After a few more minutes she got up and it was like nothing had ever happened.

You might wonder why I'm writing about this in a blog about creativity.  And that's a real honest question that I'm not sure I can answer.  But I keep coming back to the living proof that pets provide that life is undeniably linked to death.  There is an inevitability to this fact that is brought into sharp focus by the aging and eventual death of a beloved pet.

It's hard to deal with.  But it's real.  And real is what living in a creatively pure and honest way is all about.  These are the experiences that make life, life.  And these are the experiences that make life worth living.  Joy, pain, birth, death.  It's all a part of the whole.  To deny or hide from any of it is to live less fully.

I believe the best art communicates the deepest experiences of life in an undeniable way.  It touches us at our very center.  And it should.  And we should let it.  No, invite it.  And invite into our own lives the depth of experience of all that this existence brings with it.

And maybe try to find a way to communicate with others how our life and experiences matter to us.  Through art.  Through dance, painting, sculpture, writing, music...

Or even through simple, pure, and honest presence with those around us.

I'd like to end today with a quote form Nelson Mandela.  This one has had a profound and deep impact on me lately.  And it's related to every single thing that we, as humans, do in our world:

"Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate.  Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.  It is our light, not our darkness, that most frightens us.  Your playing small does not serve the world.  There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you.  We are all meant to shine as children do.  It's not just in some of us; it is in everyone.  And as we let our lights shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same.  As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others."

My MayaPapaya certainly never lived as if she was inadequate.  She let her light shine and continues to let it shine.  I hope I can learn from her how to let my light shine as well.