Letting Go....

Last night momma went to the store and picked out a wonderful bone for me. It was big and juicy and had pieces of marrow still clinging, lovingly, to the inside. I was excited, and so when she asked "MattieDog, are you ready?" and pulled it out of it's plastic bag, careful to keep all the little bits of meat in tact, I let out a squeal of "Yes!" alerting the world to my joy!

As soon as momma put the bone down in my bowl I grabbed it tight in my mouth & trotted out my doggy door. Me and my bone, my tail wagging big in the breeze, and I was happy.  First I went to our deck. It was safe, all dry and high above the ground. I could see everything and anyone that potentially came in to my yard.  But then I realized, "Yipes!" I can't see behind me... so I twirled around and checked things out.

But then I though, "Where's my bone?" and jumped up on all fours and trotted back over to my bone. Holding my head up high and feeling pretty good, I strutted around for an hour or so, bone in and out of my mouth, sometimes getting chomped on, but more often than not just getting carried around. Momma would come out every now and then to check on me, tucking her blowing hair back under her hat. "You are less interested in your bone than you are with showing your ownership of that bone," laughed momma.

What? That's crazy. But it made me think. Her words made me ponder. What was I doing, really? Sure I was wandering around my yard...and yes, some might call my actions possessive. But, I loved my bone. Didn't I? I thought about that a bit. I think I loved being in love with my bone. Having something that was all mine. Something that I could call my own, have and be apart from anyone at any time. Ownership. What did I really own? While I thought about this, my neighbor's cat came and grabbed my bone.  Now I knew, I owned my bone until something came and took it from me. Dang cat. I want MY bone back!

But, what do you own, really? Did I own that bone? I had it for a moment in time, only as long as I was willing to guard it. Then, I guess, I didn't really own it. The bone owned the bone. I nibbled on the bone for a while, but then the ants owned it, and ultimately, well for as long as I was watching, Catch, our neighbor's cat owned it. But I bet Snatch, the Rottweiler that lives with Catch, ultimately ended up with the bone.  For a while anyway.

From what I can tell, you don't really own anything. You simply borrow a lot. Your home, your job, your clothes....time... these things are all borrowed. That's a really interesting perspective. Time, it's borrowed, it's not defined. You aren't an 'accountant,' you account for things... just like you aren't a doctor, you simply care for things for a while.  We aren't ever a thing, we don't stop, we aren't solid, and we don't own anything... it all continues on.

Hmmm....  Considering all that, well then, I enjoyed that bone! That juicy bone that I got to have for a while on it's little bone journey. I'm happy I got to share in that little bone for a while. And, I hope Catch, and even Snatch, enjoyed that bone. And ultimately, I hope that you find joy with the things you get to borrow along your journey, just like me and my little bone.

With love,
MattieDog