Intrinsic Nature

Man knows that he springs from nature and not nature from him. This is an old and very primitive knowledge. - Loren Eiseley in the Zen Calendar (December 17, 2007).

Day 206. I spent the day torquing round in the midst of some weird state of maniacal energy. I can only attribute it to planetary alignment, and/or proper dosing of thyroid medication. I'm going with the former; it sounds much more glamorous.

Like an official Disneyland Mom, I picked up my two dogs this evening and took them to the lake. After parenting my son alone for 19 years, I must confess that it is a blast to be the person who just shows up for the fun stuff. My super ego is far too developed to truly shirk my share of pet owner responsibility, however, so I bathed both squirmy, swamp smelling canines when we got home. They grudgingly indulged me. I'm pretty sure they were cognizant that I am the person who will be chaperoning them in future visits to puppy paradise.

The lake shore had vastly changed since our last visit. The water is so low, I fear the lake is precariously close to being reclassified as a pond on Google Earth. I was awed by the tenacity of nature in adapting to the various whims of humans, including the random emptying of a decades old body of water. A splendid variety of flora has sprung up along the shores, looking native and robust and like it has been there much longer than the two months it took to flourish. I was struck by how brash and bold nature can be, when left unimpeded. The grand scheme of things is not deterred by attachment, opinion, preference, or plan. Nature just unfurls her green tinted perfection with effortless abandon. How humans have strayed so far from such intrinsic flawlessness is beyond me.

I observed Ruby and Katy the Border Collie as they careened through the prolific new growth, emerging occasionally to splash headlong into what remains of the lake. Their temperaments are so different, it's sometimes hard to believe they harken from the same species. Katy's intellect is honed so specifically that she could be mistaken for an idiot savant. At first glance, she has no sense whatsoever. Every day is a new day for her - nay, every second unravels as though nothing occurred the second before it. She is that in the moment. Like "Ten-Second Tom" in the movie "Fifty First Dates." He was the guy with the head injury that caused him to retain information only 10 seconds at a time before it was lost.

While chasing a butterfly, Katy will become distracted by a bird, which holds her attention fleetingly until the next dragonfly crosses her visual field. All this while scanning relentlessly to maintain me in her perceptual awareness. Border collies are bred to direct and protect their flock. Historically, predators were abundant, and innumerable dangers awaited the creatures entrusted to the collie's care. The dog's frenetic vigilance could literally mean the difference between life and death for both herself and the sheep/cattle/goats/small children(?) she was herding. Reading about the history of Katy's breed and understanding the origin of her irrepressible urge to herd turned my confusion and frustration surrounding her behavior to compassion and respect. She is uncannily good at what her ancestry prepared her for.

In addition to being an old soul and a Bodhisattva, Ruby has an IQ exceeding most of our elected officials. She forgets nothing. It takes exactly one trial for her to master any task she deems relevant (Ruby defines relevancy as any act that elicits a bacon treat). She has the receptive vocabulary of a precocious nine-year-old. When I focus too much attention on Katy, Ruby will go to the toy pile, select one of Katy's favorite carcasses (no toy older than 15 minutes has any stuffing left in it), and dangle it in front of her to distract her from me (even Ruby has figured out how to work Katy's ADD to her advantage). I have never seen such forethought and planning in a canine. Ruby will work to extract treats from her Kong for upwards of thirty minutes. I've known grad students with shorter attention spans. Witnessing the acrobatics and laws of physics Ruby utilizes to eject those square treats from that round hole is more entertaining than listening to Science Fridays. And every bit as intellectually stimulating.

While watching these two boisterous beings manifest their true nature on the shores of that receding lake, it dawned on me that creatures are most blissful when they are unselfconsciously congruent with their intrinsic nature. Absorbed in the moment, Katy skitters around the shoreline, fleetingly attending to each miniscule detail as though her life - or the life of those in her "herd" - depended on it. Ruby methodically disappears into the woods at predictable and consistent locales that only hold meaning for her. She sights things far off in the distance, and patiently keeps an eye on them, accumulating data before she determines a response. As antithetical in personality as two beasts can be, they manage to derive a singular joy while sharing an outing at the lake. They have no reason, or capacity, to question their nature. They are who they are. No attachments, and therefore no suffering. At least, as long as there are bacon treats around.

Cushion time has been useful in connecting with my intrinsic nature. I think I embody aspects of both Katy and Ruby. Sometimes the Monkeys chatter relentlessly and my mind skids and squirms like Katy during a visit from the triplets. Other times, my mind is quiet, patient, and contemplative like Ruby planted at the base of the tree containing her most recent failed squirrel conquest. Busy mind, quiet mind. Intrinsic to my nature. Congruous with my being. Synonymous with Zen.

Gassho,
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