The Home Altar

Our little dog is getting old. Sure 14 going on 15 doesn’t sound old, but that’s 102 in human years! It seems like everything is up for renegotiation. Playing with toys has been replaced with resting gently on a stuffy as a pillow. Long nature walks have been replaced by long afternoon naps. Just this year he’s needed treatment for a serious illness, special prescription food, and now daily eye treatments as he struggles with vision loss.

Our canine brother is truly a senior and it has brought what feels like non-stop change and daily challenge. Caring for him is now part and parcel in my daily discipline. From listening for his first stirring in the morning to carry him downstairs to the main floor, to making sure he gets a quick relief walk right after a meal, to the administration of a couple kinds of eye medicine.

Getting up and down the apartment porch stairs was starting to get scary, both for the humans and the dog. The once brave and bouncy descendant of wolves was struggling to find the stairs and plant his feet. It was time to do something different, to accept that an accommodation and a new tool were needed to continue finding the joy in each day, even the strange ones.

Spending a day building a custom ramp for a dog might seem frivolous or like too much work, but I firmly believe that just as age and disability come for all of us, that those moments of honest encounter provide an opportunity to practice kinship with all creation. Especially the parts of creation that we have promised to care for. It was a chance for compassion to shine, and for love to be rekindled.

I’m pleased to say that it only took a small amount of scattered kibble and some gentle coaching, and now Matteo is a true Ramp Champ. The added dignity and safety of the trip up and down has resulted in more requests to go outside, whether to walk around the neighborhood, or to fall asleep in the grass sunbathing. We were better able to be family together with the right adaptations in place.

This isn’t all that different from our relationship with ourselves, others, and God that comes through our daily practice. Sometimes, what worked in one phase of our life simply isn’t helpful, safe, or loving any more. Other times, we can engage in components of our practice, with assistance from a new tool or structure.

We may move from memorized prayers to simply abiding silently, or from walking the labyrinth on foot to tracing one with our finger. We may have to embrace the reality that streaming or on-line worship is more accessible, due to our mobility, neurotype, or trauma history. We may lean on our fellow travelers more, trusting that the practice of the whole community is our practice too. We might be on more people’s prayer lists than we’re used to, relying on the love and compassion flowing to us.

This is all healthy, good, and kind. The insistence that a practice must be exactly the same for the entirety of our time embracing it is simply the delusion of control and permanence that we love to chase as human beings. Matteo is lucky to be a creature who thrives on living in the moment (except for when he dreams vigorously!). His ability to face change once he knew that he was safe and cared for is inspiring. The pursuit of contemplative consciousness is the longing to be lovingly and mercifully present to what actually is. If we cling to that space, that is where our caregivers, both divine and human, can meet us where we are and help us find joy and safety going in and out and about our daily living. We can be ramp champs too, putting our feet confidently on the artificial turf and moving forward with our companions.

Practice

Take a moment to ground yourself and center on the Spirit moving through your breath.

Let your mind wander over the many ways you have engaged with spiritual practice over your lifetime. Savor the goodness and the consolation that came along with it.

• What practices have you set down? Give thanks for what they provided and then gently bid them Godspeed to the next person who might use them.
• What practices continue to this day? Spend some time in gratitude for your current disciplines.
• What practices need modifications or adaptations? Who might you ask to help you build a structure that will allow you to move forward safely and confidently?

As you finish this reflection, marvel at all the connections represented in these memories and wonderments. Move into your day with this breath prayer:

Inhale: I am still here.

Exhale: I am not alone.

Be gentle with yourself, you are worth it.

Peace and Everything Good,

The Rev. JM Longworth, OEF Spiritual Direction and Trauma Care

https://www.sdicompanions.org/sdi-profile/GreenMtFriarOEF/ To book an appointment: https://calendly.com/greenmtfriaroef