Another moment in time

Tonight I was watching TV and saw the movie Akeelah and the Bee, about a girl from the ghetto who wins the national spelling bee at age 11. There was one line, somewhat paraphrased here, that really stays in my mind for its truth:

"There is not one teacher, but fifty thousand."

Which is so true, for although we learn from people who teach, we learn more from unexpected teachers, the ones who crop up at the drive-through or the supermarket, and the ones who are not who we would choose to learn from, except we have no choice.

This past year I have spent much time focusing on work, knowing all the time that for me the way through, the way to growth, is not in my regular work, but in creative expression. But the bills have to be paid, and somehow I found ways to put off my spiritual education again, as I have for much of my life. Lessons are tough to learn, but this past year I've had some doozies: that the corporate world doesn't work for me anymore, that when I avoid living in the Now, in my moment in time as it happens, I cannot see as clearly as I need to, and that hurts not just me but the craetures that I love.

Two weeks ago my dog, Izzy, died. Perhaps if I had been paying more attention, if I had been living in the Now, I would have realized her health problem was not a simple one, easily fixed by a few exercises, but something more serious. As it was, I found out too late to save her, and it wrenches at my heart that I allowed my attention to her to be so superficial. It may be that I could have done nothing to save her. I don't know. What I do know now is that my presence should be here and now, not immersed in office politics and artifical stress, not distracted by whatever TV show is on, or whether my clothes fit well enough.

So Izzy, who lived in the Now like all dogs, has taught me a big lesson about living in my own. For that I know she's in Puppy Heaven, running and playing with our other companions who have the gift most of us humans seem to have lost.