Jake, the Uplifter of Human Consciousness

Be a lamp, or a lifeboat, or a ladder. ~ Rumi

On a beautiful morning, I sit on the patio at the downtown Whole Foods, enjoying a Cuppa Joe.

Suddenly, I look up . . . really, really, look up in to the eyes of a puppy named Jake.

Without thinking, I rise up from my chair and am drawn to Jake’s side, reaching out to him and touching his soft furry coat.

I naturally discover the next step . . . talking to him . . . sweetly talking to him.

It doesn’t take long for Jake to draw a crowd.

Early morning commuters, runners, and walkers gather around him.

All gatherers are beaming the biggest and brightest of smiles.

People, who prior to Jake’s arrival, sat alone in a self-imposed isolated world, are now living and thriving in Jake’s loving world.

Jake’s doing nothing extraordinary. . . just naturally being himself . . . a cute, loving, adorable puppy wrapped in the arms of his owner of three days and basking in a world over-flowing with love.

Yeah, Jake . . . a mighty powerful pup, demonstrating for we humans, the power in simply being naturally who we are . . . living and being at home on the playground of the heart.

I hear no one asking how to do it . . . how to rise up in human consciousness.

People like me are just naturally responding, following their hearts’ lead, and simply being moved into  loving action, and demonstrating the higher human consciousness of love.

Yes, thank you, dear Jake, Uplifter of Human Consciousness, for serving UP such a sweet reminder on how easy living and sharing love can be.

Loving you,

Robert, aka Bob

Slowing Down to Love

Slow down and everything you are chasing

will come around and catch you. ~ John DePaola

Friday morning at 10:45 . . . I’m cruising north on I-35, approaching downtown Austin.

Suddenly the traffic slows down . . . way down.

I note in the lane to my right a red car that has really slowed down and is creeping along.

I see a white truck from behind quickly approaching the red car. The driver of the truck slams on his brakes and quickly swerves into the next lane, which happens to be directly in front of me.

In response to his sudden braking and swerving, a black lab in the bed of the truck stands up.

The lab cannot maintain its balance and suddenly careens out of the truck bed and on to I-35.

Miraculously the dog lands between the moving wheels of a huge semi and is able to bounce up and get to the shoulder of the road.

To me, this I-35 scene appears to be playing out in slow motion.

As much as I want to roll down my window and grab hold of the lab, it’s simply not possible to do.

Looking in my car’s rear view mirror, I can see the dog running along the shoulder of I-35. It’s eyes clearly focused on the white truck that continues to zig-zag from lane to lane. The driver of the truck is clearly unaware of the precious cargo he’s just lost.

Me . . . I’m so deeply touched by the lab’s loyalty to its master.

I ponder what to do. I know I cannot stop the car. I know there’s no way to go back.

I recognize the one thing I can do is pray for the dog and keep my eyes focused ahead on the white truck.

Every now and then I think I spot the truck; however, it becomes quite illusive to catch.

Finally, I arrive beside a white truck, roll down my car’s window, and get the truck driver’s attention.

I’m a bit disheartened when the driver says, “No, I didn’t have a dog in the bed of the truck. It must be another white truck.”

I acknowledge how deeply troubled I am by this 1-35 Friday morning scene.

I feel so helpless.

Yet,I know all I can do at this time is . . . let go and let God.

The more I try letting go, the more I want to hold on . . . hold on tightly to the judgments about the truck driver . . . and hold on to wanting to rescue the black lab.

Both tasks, that because of intense I-35 road traffic, are not possible for me to accomplish.

I feel crushed.

It hurts; boy, does it hurt.

In just a matter of seconds, the black lab fell out of the truck bed and into my heart, triggering memories of my growing-up years and the dogs I so dearly loved and adored.

Sandy, Rusty, Toby, and Mitzi . . . each one I so loved.

As a young kid, they provided me with such warm companionship.

Each of the dogs was in my life for such a brief period of time.

I found the task of saying good-by to them to be so challenging . . . not only in the process of letting them go, but talking with my parents about my feelings.

So, here I am years later, experiencing the wounding loss of a black lab that I only knew for a few brief moments.

I’ve learned that when life presents me with scene like this there’s gold for me to discover . . .  if I’m willing to slow down and discover the meaning in the life  lesson being presented me.

And as I question myself about what I observed take place . . . the one thing that jumps out at me is  . . . the black lab’s loyalty to its master.

And the truck driver’s erratic driving behavior, so focused on where he had to get up the road that he lost the precious cargo of love waiting for him in the bed of his truck.

I see how in my own life . . . times when I have been so focused on getting up the road of life that I missed the love that was present for me to receive.

And so today upon arriving home, I slow down.

I say Yes to opening up to the I-35 scene that I’d just witnessed and its lessons for me.

I sit with paper and chalk and simply allow my Cuppa Joe Pooch to show up with a message . . . a reminder for me.

Bottom line . . .

 LOVE U is what life is all about.

Yes, slowing down I am to the speed of loving.

Loving you,

Robert, aka Bob