Lessons from dog

My life is filled with miracles. So is yours. Have you seen them lately? Are you paying attention? Witness that the sunrise is always perfect. Stand beneath the whisper of the breeze tickling the new green leaves on the trees. Share laughter with a friend. Remember something you'd forgotten, something that warms you. Reach out and scratch your dog, right behind her left ear.

Simple stuff. Simple joys.

Before the sun rises, I stir. She stirs. I think, Not so early, don't wake her up so early.

Too late, she's licking my nose. I know better than to wrap myself backwards -- we are up. I open the garage door, take her collar and leash from the hook. She dances around in circles. I can't help but catch her enthusiasm.

We take each other out into the breaking dawn, bring it into our lungs -- she sniffs, I breathe in deep. I look east, pause for a moment to watch the blooming colors of the emerging daylight. I shut my eyes and realize that for every negative in my life, positive is there, right there, just waiting to be invited, realized.

Cheyenne takes her time. I stand on the other side of the leash as she sniffs about. I tug, she resists, I unhook the leash. She reminds me not to hurry. She reminds me to take now and wrap my grip around it with my smile. She has no caution, that dog. She puts one hundred percent into her present; she has no awareness beyond this morning, this scent, this now. Later, I look at her going after that bone of hers and realize the lessons she has to show me. She's not waiting for tomorrow, not looking back to yesterday. She's so darn happy to be in now.

In the moment, me too.