The Wild Dog Blog

Tag: meditation

  • The Morning Ritual

    How joyful is it to sit outside at sunrise and listen to the birds starting their day? Their energy rises with the sun – at first their calls are soft and sleepy, but as the sun rises they crescendo into a brilliant chorus. If I counted each unique call, how many would there be? I hear calls from the woodpecker, the owl, the blue jay, and the little brown bird with the yellow on its chest. I’m reminded that this is their home too. 

    As the sun gets higher, the birds get quieter. Their morning ritual is coming to an end. They’ve greeted the day, rejoiced, and now it’s time to move on to the day’s work. It’s time for me to move on too. I’m tempted to stay a little longer in the ease of the morning, but I can’t delay when there’s a day waiting to be lived.

  • The Gift of Waking – Malibu, California

    California inspires the observer with all of its character, color, and texture. From the houses, to the terrain, to the ocean – everything has an exuberance that draws the eye. I imagine it’s a paradise for the artist, photographer, and writer. 

    The coast in particular boasts a glorious pre-dawn vibrance. There’s a distinct richness of color that’s offered by the sun as it rises over the Pacific Ocean to give the gift of another day.

    Isn’t it astonishing that the earth rewards us so generously just for waking?

  • Become a Gardener

    When we’re creating something, there’s so much out of our control. We can really only control what we choose to create and how we choose to create it – we can’t control whether or not it becomes something that’s meaningful to others or makes an impact.

    I think of creating as planting a seed in the ground. I picture myself cradling the seed in my hands before parting the cool, damp dirt aside to bury it in the soil. After I cover it up and pat the dirt down on top, all I can do is come back to the same spot each day to water and keep the weeds away. All I can do is use the tools that I have to cultivate what I’ve planted. When it starts to grow and at what rate it grows isn’t up to me. 

    To create is to accept and find freedom in becoming the gardener of your ideas.

  • The Centipede

    I watched a centipede make its way along the bannister at the end of the boardwalk. It would inch along for a few seconds, stick its head up to look around, and then continue on. It almost seemed as if it were looking for something, but for what I wasn’t sure. 

    Are we any different from that centipede? Try as we might, we’re unable to see what’s ahead of us or maybe not even sure what we’re looking for. We can only move forward in faith that our path will continue to unfold. 

    I watched the centipede fall from the banister and thought about picking it up to return it to its place, but I stopped myself. Isn’t that how we all get to where we need to be? By pursuing a path, getting redirected by failure or the unexpected, and discovering a new and often better path as a result. 

    I sat there, staring at the centipede curled up on the ground, wondering if it could have died from its fall. A few seconds later, it uncurled, stretched its head up to look around, and dutifully continued on its way. It was a humbling reminder of what’s available to all of us – the choice to keep inching along undeterred, no matter how many times the path changes up ahead.