After a few months of neglecting my blog, I am back.

I have decided to post on my blog several articles that I had previously written for an occasional newsletter of our center.

In the early fall our family got our first dog, Gretta, an energetic Weimaraner puppy. We want her to be a well-mannered pet, so her training routines have become an important part of our life. We have learned that when she exercises long enough and hard enough, she is in a better mood, settling down more easily, and finding more times for napping.

My part of exercising Gretta is an early morning walk while my wife begins to get the day organized for herself and our daughters. This discipline of daily dog-walking has been good for me in at least two ways: by increasing my exercise level and by giving me an opportunity for spiritual growth. This second benefit that Gretta has brought into my life has come as a pleasant surprise.

My first mornings of dog-walking gave me a chance to get reacquainted with the dawn. As the days shortened into winter, I rediscovered the phases of the moon and the stars in the sky. In my pre-Gretta way of life my attention almost always focused on the task before me, the person I was talking to, the road ahead, the screen on the TV or the computer, etc. Seldom did I find an occasion to pause and be aware of the creation that surrounds me, appreciating its beauty, noticing its natural rhythms. I have found myself feeling more connected with the handiwork of God as I have seen the pinks and blues of the dawn, heard the rustle of my feet on fallen leaves, felt warm breezes and chilling winds on my hands, and smelled the aroma of a neighbor’s cooking bacon for breakfast. It has been a very good thing to be taken out of my climate-controlled, artificially-lighted, Palm Pilot-scheduled, 65 mile-per-hour life, receiving a gift of a deeper awareness of the natural, enduring parts of life from my dog.

We take the same basic route every morning, through the neighborhood and the nearby nature preserve. We have explored other streets and routes, but Gretta and I seem to have agreed that one particular route for our walk is best. I cannot identify any objective reasons that make this path the right one for us. This experience of finding ourselves on a path that seems right for no apparent reason could be understood as random or meaningless, but I have come to see our route as our response to mysterious guidance that is almost imperceptible but nevertheless powerful. Pondering our crooked route through streets and pathways has helped me to view my entire life journey from a new perspective. Through the years I have tried to make good decisions and deal with the challenges I have faced. Even so, as I look back over my life it often appears that my path was set before me, that I was guided into new directions, that I arrived at destinations I had not chosen. Understanding my life in this way as I have walked my dog in the morning has made it possible to take on the rest of the day with greater calm and confidence.

One morning I left the house in the dark and found that it was raining. It was a cold, blustery morning that I immediately experienced as quite unpleasant. Turning back into the comfort of our home, but with Gretta un-walked, wasn’t an option. So off we went, my hat pulled down over my ears, my gloved hands clenched against the cold. Gretta paused often to shake off the rain. I figured out that there were two very different ways to understand my experience that morning. I could view my dog-walking in the cold rain as an uncomfortable obligation, or as an unusual opportunity. I found a way to choose the more positive view, and my walk was transformed. I became deeply grateful for my warm and waterproof coat. Once I got moving, I was not in fact uncomfortable. I came to appreciate that of all the people living in the homes of our neighborhood, I was the only one who was out in the rain with the rich experience of feeling the drops hitting my shoulders, watching the puddles form under the streetlights. I got back home with a renewed awareness of how wonderful it is to live in a warm, dry dwelling. That wet walk with Gretta became an occasion for deep gratitude.

I have been taught by my Christian heritage that awareness of the wonder of God’s creation, trust in God’s guidance through my life, and gratitude for the gifts I receive every day are strong, spiritual foundations on which I can build my life. I had allowed the artificiality, stress, and hurry of my modern, American life to weaken those foundations. Gretta needed to be walked every day, and in my obligation to meet her need, I have found a rich opportunity for spiritual growth.
Copyright Gregg Dana 2007