Heads Up!
“By three methods we may learn wisdom: First, by reflection, which is noblest; Second, by imitation, which is easiest; and third by experience, which is the bitterest.”― Confucious
We live life forward but understand it backward. It’s often only after the fact that we make sense of events and occurrences that seem trivial in the moment, yet may have mystical, symbolic, clarifying explanations in retrospect. Not that we should spend our lives looking in the rearview mirror. What’s around the bend is much more likely to hit us head-on, and that’s where most of our attention should be directed. Sometimes, however, we have epiphanies when the rear-view lights click on, shining new perspective on occurrences we hadn’t thought too deeply about previously.
At first glance Bessie’s passing snuck up on us, arriving out of deep left field without any real warning, like the tree that defied all odds and fell on our moving car last fall. Yes, our girl was fourteen years old, an ancient age for a lab, especially a blind and deaf one with some obvious genetic defects. Yet it still came as a stunning surprise that she was full-on one day and nearly out of gas the next. Bessie thoughtfully sent us a hint in big, bold letters just three days before her lights went out for good, and we missed it.
We had completed a lively, upbeat book presentation at a retirement community where Bessie, as usual, charmed the residents and made some new friends. Ashley stepped out of the room for a moment, and I was breaking down the technology and packing up equipment. Suddenly I noticed that Bessie was nowhere to be seen. She’d vanished! We called her name, but of course her deafness made that effort pointless. Finally, we saw our girl outside, enjoying the warm sunshine and the green grass under her feet. What happened makes profound spiritual sense…in retrospect.
Somehow our dear, blind dog found her way to the back of a large room full of empty chairs and down a hallway where there was an automatic door that opened when you stepped on the exact, correct spot. That led to a foyer and a second automatic door that delivered her to the outdoors - to freedom, sunshine and the heavenly fragrances of nature, fragrances that remained vivid for Bessie as her other senses failed. Of course! Bessie was tipping us off that she was about to exit from the confines of her endlessly dark and silent daily life into a brighter arena. This was her way of preparing us…and we missed it. Her actions only made sense later, in the rearview mirror. The same goes for that day fourteen years ago when seven-week-old Bessie ambled out of her kennel, the last of her eight siblings, and parked herself softly on Ashley’s feet. We now realize how lucky we were she chose us to be her messengers. A stretch? Probably, but it makes perfect sense…in retrospect.
Bess continually reminded us to view everyday events with wider eyes, rather than our typical “in the box” perspective. Like when a two-year-old draws on the wall with his crayons. The parents see a mess, the grandparents see an artist, and their responses, nurtured by relative levels of wisdom, are strikingly different and impactful. Remember – wide eyes.
When we discovered Bessie basking in the sunshine after her escape through the automatic doors, inhaling nature’s intoxicating aroma with a hint of mischief on her face, we bathed her in praise and affection. Yet, the full picture of her actions eluded us. We were in a hurry as most of us usually are. Thanks Bess, for reminding us how important it is to slow down and view even the simplest events through the prism of our accumulated wisdom, especially as life speeds past. You have always been the best teacher.
Be Like Bessie!
bessiesstory.com
