Nexus - 0205 - New Times Magazine-pages

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lam given a new bed in the soft hay in the hay barn. I lack noth- ing in comfort, and if the evenings are more chilly it does not greatly concern me. What festers within me is the lack of stroking and touching on which I thrive. But I cannot reflect on such mat- ters. I live what is. If something is missing, it is missing for all time. I grow older, less capable, while the children on the farm become stronger and more capable. My special attention is always focussed on the master of the farm. A look of love from him lights me up; a frown of anger devastates me. That he loves me is appar- ent. I can read his energy as easily as I can read any human ener- gy. Humans are an open book. Emotions play out in streams of energy around them, signalling their intentions long before they act. Sometimes, visitors to the farm are deeply repulsive to me, but this is rare. Many fear me because of my size, but fear is their constant companion; I only externalise it. This I know, because in the Now their energy broadcasts their feelings to all Nature. Humans cause me fear and pain, love and joy. A fearful human is fear, transmitting the emotion to me and the other dogs. We snarl in rage, hating the vibration, and the fear grows stronger. Love is my life. To love and be loved is my purpose, and I know this with every atom of my Being. The disquiet I feel at being removed from the house is never in my head, but it is me. I become that energy. The ruling never has to be enforced. Once removed, I know the rule but never why. I am never tied up. I have freedom. The whole farm is mine to roam, but the house and garden are banned. As I grow older, an ache develops in one of my front legs. Gradually, it becomes a deep-seated pain, not intense but an end- less throbbing. I limp, and this is difficult on my long, rather clumsy legs. I ail, moving less and less frequently from my snug bed in the hay barn. I see less of the children, and this also becomes a pain. Isee far less of my master as well, for his work consumes his time. Only when he feeds me do we physically connect. I deteriorate rapidly in health and condition. One day my master comes to me, and I know he carries my death. The distress emanating from him is terrible, and my fear for him is paramount. Suddenly, there is duality. I am dog, suffering from a growth in my leg, and I am master, crying as I hide my gun behind me. He wraps his arms around my neck, and I feel him shaking in anguish. And I am my master, as, wrapping my arms around Whisky, I cry with what I have to do. I watch, unresisting, as he levels the gun at me. I know it kills, for I have seen it in action. I know he is going to kill me, but I have no fear. I have no knowledge of death. I am dog. I live, I love, I bark, I die. None of these are separate. Iam the man, shaking with contained grief as I take aim between the eyes of the trusting dog. I see those limpid eyes of devotion gazing into mine, and I can hardly hold steady. Taking a deep breath, I squeeze the trigger. I gaze into those blue human eyes, and my love pours forth. Abruptly there is a tremendous explosion. I am no longer in pain, no longer contained by an ungainly body. I am light, free, spirit of dog, loving my human master. I gaze at him as he holds the blood- ied head of my dead body. I try to lick the tears from his face. I want him to know that I bear no grudge, but he is unaware of me. I want him to know that I love him, that death is only a movement in life, one I have experienced many, many times. But all he feels is grief ... and something else. I hold the shattered head of Whisky and let the grief pour out of me. My thoughts hold only one phrase: if only, if only! If only I had let her live in the house with us. Why did I allow such petty issues to change things? So she knocked the children over with her great size. So what? Did they ever complain? So she left a large pool of saliva on the lounge floor where she slept! How triv- ial it now seems. I cry, cradling her head in my arms, her blood mingling with my tears. And I feel the guilt of my failure. As a dog owner, I have failed, and my guilt is a pain. "Failure and success are illusions. As long as you measure your - self in terms of success or failure, you will remain unenlightened." "Only you judge yourself. Nothing else in life does this except humans. Humans judge themselves and each other. Give it up..." Pan Autographed copies of books by Michael J. Roads are now available direct from the author. JOURNEY INTO NATURE TALKING WITH NATURE NATURAL MAGIC OF MULCH + Michael's latest release SIMPLE IS POWERFUL All books are $15.00 each + $5.00 p&p Make cheques M/Orders payable to: M &T Roads, PO Box 778, Nambour Qld 4560 | enclose a total of $ for the following books:- ___ copies of "Simple is Powerful" @ $15 ___ copies of "Journey into Nature" ____ copies of "Talking with Nature" ____ copies of "The Natural Magic of Mulch" Name: Address Autographed copies of books by Michael J. Roads author. “Don't be alarmed, I'm the mushroom quiche you left to microwave and forgot six days ago!" NEXUS - 27 are now available direct from the JOURNEY INTO NATURE TALKING WITH NATURE NATURAL MAGIC OF MULCH + Michael's latest release SIMPLE IS POWERFUL All books are $15.00 each + $5.00 p&p OCTOBER/NOVEMBER 1991 * YEAR BOOK