Anyone browsing my flikr will quickly notice how many photos there are of Lily, the fun-loving and kind-hearted spirit who entered my life last October, just in time to celebrate my birthday. I’m an awkwardly shy type amongst strangers (through frankly, I prefer to think of myself as “skittish,” a feral cat cautiously curious and fiercely alert, my sweaty palms and blushing cheeks but remnants of some raw quality, unbroken), easily “marooned in my own skull”* and holding myself apart.
But Lily, so shamelessly vibrant, at ease with people and in love with the world, has taught me a thing or two about what it means to love and to be loved. A big part of how she loves is the joy she embodies in connecting with others, how this joy seems to expand through her and offer itself to others. When she greets me, excitedly wagging her tail or bowing in play, I feel my heart settling, suspended, or floating perhaps, in calm. And more often than not I join her, forgetting myself for a moment or two. If you, the stranger passing by, happened upon us just then, you might see crazy human and spastic dog in play. Or just maybe, you’d see light glittering alive and bending toward you, inviting you to join us in dance.
* phrase borrowed from David Foster Wallace