Walking the dog this morning, I wanted to get it over with so I could “start my day” (as if walking the dog didn’t count because I wasn’t getting human stuff done). As he excitedly pulled ahead on the leash, I caught myself buried in my thoughts and realized how un-present I was, all caught up in my mind, barely in my body, and anxiously thinking into the future about the next things I had to do. I realized I was missing the beauty of experiencing nature with my beloved buddy (who was having the time of his life sniffing around in the winter sun). Once I reminded myself that the mental noise was the problem, not the solution, I was able to surrender to the moment, pause, and notice what my senses were lucky to take in. The sun was shining brightly on the vibrant greenery all around me that had blossomed from the recent rains. I heard the birds chirping clearly and I marveled—as I always do when I really, really listen—at how gorgeous their voices were in tone and pitch. I watched my dog and could vicariously feel his pleasure at moving his body and exploring the abundant new smells the rain had gifted us with. As the walk went on, I naturally kept defaulting to my thoughts but when I was able to catch myself, I brought myself back into my senses and to watching my dog. Through example, and without even knowing it, he guides me how to be present.
This is just one example of how dogs are wonderful spiritual teachers.
The Way I See It 