She is a three-year-old shepherd who came into my life quite unexpectedly.
A year ago, I had no desire of having a dog.
It was rather the contrary. With all that was happening in my life, how should I have found the time to take care of another being? I was a master at telling myself, that there was never enough time to do anything fully. Always ahead of myself, planning my future, while life was passing me by. Being neither there nor here. Suspended in a state of utter detachment and separation from the world.
A prisoner of my own mind.
This is how Sonata found me. And she didn’t care for any of this. I couldn’t explain the abstract concept of time management to her, nor the milestones of my complicated agenda.
All that matters to her is Now. And the things in her immediate surrounding.
When she looks at me with unbridled joy, her tail wagging vigorously, impatiently eyeing the stick in my hand, to give meaning to her explosive runs. Moving life instead of being moved by it.
This is her gift to me. Reminding me every day, that life is meant to be joyous. That pleasure is in the things we already have. And that they are free.
In our neighborhood are a lot of Bitter Orange trees. Twice a year, they shed their fruits and leave them on the infertile concrete ground. Only to rot, their purpose defeated.
When Sonata takes me for a walk (this is the right way round), I pick them up for her.
I feel their warm and soapy skin before I throw them. Giving them purpose through my love for this beautiful dog.
Feeling rich and nurtured Now.
Realizing that the things we don’t want can be our path to salvation.
Desiring them more while my fears fade away.
I love Sonata.