6/14/2021 0 Comments LEARNING FROM A FLYPrelude to the story About 25 years ago, I was browsing in our local Ipswich library. I was in the “animal” section to learn more about properly training and understanding my dogs and cats. I noticed a little book with an intriguing title, Kinship With All Life, by J. Allen Boone written in the 1950s. The back cover asked “Is there a universal language of love, a “kinship with all life” that can open new horizons of experience? The back cover further stated that “This unique classic – from Strongheart, the actor-dog to “Freddie” the fly – resounds with entertaining and inspiring proof that communication with animals is a wonderful, indisputable fact.” I enjoyed all the stories in the book, but the one that stretched my imagination was Freddie the fly. Was it really possible to connect with a fly, those little buzzing beings that I often found annoying at best? Several months after reading the book, Catherine and I were watching TV in our family room. A fly was buzzing around and landed on my arm. Inspired by the book, I decided to say “hello” and see if it was possible to make a connection. Yes, this felt a bit weird at the time. He (she?) stayed a while and then flew off. “Oh well, that’s how it goes.” The next evening, a fly (the same one?) landed on the same arm and simply stayed for a while. This time, I extended my “conversation”, and eventually he flew off. The process repeated itself for the next three nights. I was amazed. Could it really be that this little fly was attempting to communicate with me? Whether that was what was really happening, I cannot say for sure. What I can report is that something shifted in me. That fly, and by extension all flies from then on, became real to me. I developed an affection for them and would find myself saying hello to various flies that entered my life. I felt they had a right to exist and fulfill their mission, whatever that might be, even as they buzzed around. I did a bit of research and discovered that most house flies live less than 30 days. It is true that flies can sometimes carry diseases for humans. However, for the most part, if a fly lands on you, nothing bad will happen. Also, flies, like all other beings, are part of the web of life and function as pollinators and animal decomposers. The Story About four years after my first “fly” encounter, Catherine and I had become members of the LaSalette Faith Community. One of the first things we did was to join the choir. We both enjoyed singing and were familiar with singing in parts. Typically, we rehearsed standing, but on this particular night, we were sitting by parts. I was next to a man named Phil. We were seated on folding chairs, and there was a folding chair between us. Phil was around my age, in his 50s, and was a long-standing, beloved member of the community. He also had terminal cancer. He carried it very well and I admired how he was dealing with his challenge. I thought that his knowing that death was very near would make him a better soul, as he completed his stay on earth. As we were singing, a fly landed on the chair between us. I said hello to the fly. Phil told me he didn’t like flies. I asked him to please leave the fly alone. The fly flew off but shortly returned to the chair between us. Then without warning, Phil’s hand came down very hard and killed the fly. I was so pissed. “Why did you do that? He was not bothering anyone.” Phil countered “I don’t like flies.” I instantly had many nasty thoughts arise in my head about Phil’s impending demise, and that an uncaring hand would simply slap him dead. After a few minutes, I calmed down a bit and paid attention to the songs we were learning. And then it happened, I thought I saw the fly move a little. No, that can’t be. I watched carefully and the fly moved a bit more, still on the chair. Either the slap had just stunned him or could it be – resurrection? After all, this was a Catholic group! I looked at Phil and showed him that the fly was alive, and also told him with great intensity to NOT bother him. I think Phil was just as amazed as me to see the fly moving and he acquiesced. The fly then flew up into the air and landed on my shoulder furthest away from Phil – and there he remained, except for one excursion, for the entire rehearsal. When the rehearsal ended, I told the fly that I had to go and he flew off. My state of consciousness was utterly altered and joyous. For the next few months, one of my friends, who was very close to Phil, would sometimes visit him in the hospital. He shared wonderful stories about Phil’s kindness and decency for the other patients. Phil was able to put their needs far in front of his own. It was during these months that my thoughts about Phil changed. I understood that being open to other beings is a long and often circuitous road, and I was still at the beginning of that journey of discovery. I also realized that without Phil, I never would have connected with the fly. Even though Phil’s action was on auto-pilot at that moment, it had provided a, perhaps, once–in-a- lifetime moment for me. And I further understood, in a very visceral way, that whatever the intention of any person or circumstance might be, the real importance was how I received it. I attended Phil’s funeral and had a moment alone with him at his casket. Internally I smiled, wished him well and asked him if there are flies where he was now? And it sometimes happens when I see a fly these days, I like to imagine that Phil, in his “new life” might have come back as a fly and has genuinely developed a kinship with all life.
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6/2/2021 0 Comments I SHOT AN ARROWThe Arrow and the Song I shot an arrow into the air, It fell to earth, I knew not where; For, so swiftly it flew, the sight Could not follow it in its flight. I breathed a song into the air, It fell to earth, I knew not where; For who has sight so keen and strong, That it can follow the flight of song? Long, long afterward, in an oak I found the arrow, still unbroke; And the song, from beginning to end, I found again in the heart of a friend. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow A year ago, when I conceived of starting my blog adventure, this poem, that I had memorized in my student days, came to mind. Where would my blogs fly to, and in whose heart might they land? Richard Whittaker is the West Coast Editor of Parabola Magazine, one of my favorite magazines since its inception in 1976. A few years ago, he published a story in Parabola about a man named Laurie who, in the late 1960s, was attempting to live a unencumbered life in San Francisco. He explored being fully content with just the basics - air, water, rest, exercise and a little food. He thought this might give him freedom from worry and allow him the opportunity of roaming around, hanging out alone, and mingling with others. In short, simply enjoying being alive. The story laid out some of his successes and failures and presented a picture of a daring human trying to live an authentic life. The story touched my heart and inspired me to write a letter to Parabola to express my appreciation to Richard. I told him that I also had a wonderful summer experience in 1967 in San Francisco, living in an intentional community / drug rehabilitation center called Synanon. I had written a story about it and wondered if he might enjoy reading it. “Yes, please send it along” he responded. He liked it and, to my delight, he published it in the magazine he founded called Works and Conversations. The magazine consisted mainly of his interviews with wonderful artists. It felt like a privilege and honor that my story was included with such a group. I read his interviews carefully and discovered that he has a wonderful way of asking questions that invites the person being interviewed to go deeper into their own story. The interviews have a quality of depth, candor, kindness and curiosity. In the interviews, there are genuine pauses and moments for reflection, both for Richard and the person being interviewed. His interviews reminded me of the ones done by Terry Gross on her show, “Fresh Air” on NPR that has been running since 1985. I particularly love it when an interviewee would thank Terry or Richard for asking a question in a certain way that allowed them to explore their own lives more deeply. I next discovered that Richard has a website www.conversations.org. Hundreds of his interviews that he has done over the past 20+ years are stored there. They are divided into the following categories – Artists, Art of Living, Art and the Environment, Social Change, and Life and Work. Every now and then I select an interview simply to meet a marvelous person. Richard has even suggested a few he thought I would enjoy. Thus, when I started my blog, I included Richard on my distribution group. Again, to my delight and surprise, he really enjoyed one of my early stories about “juggling as a spiritual adventure” and put it on his website. One day, as I was looking at his website, I noticed a line at the bottom, “Powered by Service Space”. I had never heard of Service Space and had no idea what that meant. On their website www.servicespace.org under “who we are” they state “ServiceSpace is an organization run entirely by volunteers. We leverage technology to encourage everyday people around the world to do small acts of service. Our aim is to ignite the fundamental generosity in ourselves and others, creating both inner and outer transformation”. Their aim reflected my own aspirations. It turns out that Service Space is the hub of a wheel and Richard’s website is one of the spokes. As I was writing this blog and thinking about generosity, a “newsflash” on TV showed a philanthropist giving a commencement speech at a local Massachusetts community college. To the surprise of the students as well as the president of the college, he gave $1,000 to each of the 490 graduates. The $1,000 was given in two checks of $500 each. The first check was for the student. The second check was to be given away by the student to whomever they wished. In follow-ups, it appeared that the students were certainly glad to receive “their” check, but even more excited to share how they had given the second check away. When the philanthropist was asked why he did it, he said that the joy he experiences in giving makes him feel that he is the true receiver. So, the arrow and song that I sent out into the unknown has come back and, like the philanthropist, I feel I am the true receiver. |
David FeldmanDog walker, Dog Mediator, Father, Husband, Categories |