Monday, December 11, 2006

Nothing But a Hound Dog

Yesterday I went to see the Mark Rothko collection at the Tate Modern. In the room I sensed a presence inviting the spectator to relax and immerse yourself in the art, which I did. Powerful stuff.

As I didn't feel like seeing anything else I decided to rest on the soft sofa that sits four people (ten if they're my size). I closed my eyes and enjoyed receiving comfort from the chair. I had a thought that there is so much love around all we have to do is receive. In order to receive all the love there is, you need to create channels with limitless capacities to receive. My blogs are channels I have created to receive love. People who have kids could very well be creating channels to receive their love.

I felt someone sitting beside me on the sofa. I opened my eyes to see a woman carrying a young baby. I asked her whether it was a boy or girl and she said it was a boy. The baby started crying and the woman breast-fed him. There was so much joy on the mother's face. I marvelled at how the baby was receiving all the love his mother had to offer with no hesitation at all. After I'd chatted to the woman I felt it was time to leave

Before I came into the gallery I noticed a busker (street performer/entertainer) outside who had a wonderful voice. I wondered if he was still outside. As I walked out of the gallery, I could hear the busker singing his version of "Starry, Starry Night." I was in two minds whether to listen or walk away. I noticed a dog carrying a little stick in its mouth. The dog walked over to the busker and dropped the stick at his feet. The busker said "cheers, mate" and continued singing. The dog stood wagging his tail then he found himself the best seat in the house, next to the busker. Cheapskates like myself, who hadn't paid anything, stood at a fair distance. The dog was gazing at the busker with such admiration that a few of us, humans, started laughing.

At one point the busker sang:

Now I understand what you tried to say to me,
How you suffered for your sanity,
How you tried to set them free.
They would not listen, they did not know how.
Perhaps they'll listen now. Starry, Starry Night
Well, at least the dog is listening. Then the dog started howling to the music. People coming out of the gallery grinned and pointed at the dog. When the busker had finished his rendition a few of us applauded enthusiastically.

"Is it for me or the dog?" the busker said.
"Both," I giggled.

The busker told his audience that he had CDs for sale. He said he was going to do a final song. Before he did he asked a man sitting close by to call his dog away. The man did but the dog wouldn't budge. Who could blame him? That dog has paid good stick to listen to the busker.

"Please go away, I'm dog-phobic," the busker said.

The dog moved away and lay next to his human friend. As soon as the busker started singing, the dog was back sitting in his favourite spot and howling to the music. I was trying hard not to laugh but I couldn't suppress a grin. After a while the busker stopped singing. He said the dog was putting him off. I went over to thank the dog and put some loose change in the busker's box. The dog was very friendly and didn't mind me stroking his head.

"Maybe you should love the dog," I said to the busker.

The busker wasn't amused. I thanked him for his song and said goodbye.

On the one hand, I could understand why the busker wasn't too happy about having the dog in his audience. After working on producing a CD, it must look bad that his most devoted fan is a dog. Also, with the high cost of living in London, you can't buy anything with a stick these days.

On the other hand, the dog was demonstrating the nature of love as unconditioned. This means love is expressed in many ways but humans put conditions on how love should appear. Money is the most popular way most people like receiving love. When love comes in another form, they are not open to receive it. The dog expressed love by offering the busker a stick, showing his admiration, and howling to the music. The dog's presence certainly gave lots of people joy. It's a shame the busker couldn't see things that way.

I stopped off at a bookshop to browse a few magazines and then caught my bus home. On the bus a woman sat beside me. When some teenagers were leaving the bus, one dropped a card in the woman's lap. It was from the same bookshop I had visited earlier. The woman said it was such a bizarre experience. The way I see it, the boy was expressing love in his own way. My friend said she spent the day Christmas shopping. I told her I'd just come from the Tate Modern gallery. She even knew who Mark Rothko was. I shared the story of the singing dog, which she found very amusing.

On my final bus, although there were plenty of vacant seats available this woman chose to sit next to me. After a while I felt one nail was uneven and started filing it. My friend beside me asked if the nails were mine. Because of the white tips, my nails look as if I've had French Manicure. I said they were mine. She admired them. She said she used to have long nails like mine on her left hand but most of them were broken. I admired the nails on her right hand, which were very pretty and strong. We chatted for a few minutes until our last stop.

I don't care what the newspapers would have us believe, I know I live in love. It doesn't matter to me what form love appears; even if love comes in the shape of a hound, I am happy to receive it, thank you very much.

Love is all there is.

Enocia

Related articles: We Have All the Love in the World; Being Adorable; The Path of Receiving; Receiving; How To Avoid Blocks; How Big is Your Cup?