Spirit Grooves Blogs

Published on September 2, 2014

Another almost thirteen-hour drive and I am here, home, back where I started from. It was great to be at the monastery; it is great to be home. And I am grateful to have traveled that ribbon of highway mile by mile safely! It amazes me every time that I can get from way back there in New York to here in one piece!

Now that I am back, it’s the "you can't step in the same river twice" syndrome. My home is the same, but I'm not. So much water has passed over the dam since I left that I don't know where to pick up the pieces or what kind of patchwork-quilt of me will result when I do. These were perhaps the very best dharma teachings I have ever received. They are bound to change me.

Those of you who have gone to an intense intensive will know just what I mean. It changes you. Yes, much of me will fall back into my familiar ruts and habits, but some small portion of change will overflow the past into the future and exert an influence; at least I hope so. I am reviewing my options for priorities. I will let you know how they stack up once I get the stack together.

One person who was very, very glad to see me is my dog Molly (Molotov if you want to be formal). Molly is my daughter May's dog and travelled with her during the years she was busking music on the streets, hitchhiking, and riding freight trains. Molly did all that with May and protected her every step of the way.

When May began to get a little well-known, many places would not let Molly in, so Molly came to live with us. I even made May sign adoption papers I downloaded from the Internet. Today Molly and I are fast friends, just the best. He follows me from room to room, even to the bathroom. If I leave the bathroom door open, I can see one of Molly's eyes looking through the crack at me. That is funny to see.

But Molly is a male, and although he loves me very much, he does acknowledge me being Alpha. He keeps a little distance, but still follows me everywhere. Now ladies, like my wife Margaret or any female visitors he dearly loves, and gets right in their face, cuddles up next to them, etc. But me, just a little distance, although every once in a while he just comes up and puts his head between my hands. We both know how it is.

Anyway, Molly was overjoyed to have us back and he is peacefully sleeping on the couch next to me in my office as I write this. I am reminded of this poem I wrote some time ago about such a friend.


We can't replace,
What there is,
Only one of.

[Here is a photo of Molly taken some time ago. Molly, like me, is getting older.]