On a typical overcast and windy summer day at a Northern California beach, my dog once again reminded me that his species, and children under the age of 5, really have a monopoly on enlightened self-expression.
there is a field. I’ll meet you there.
When the soul lies down in that grass,
the world is too full to talk about.
Ideas, language, even the phrase each other
doesn’t make any sense.
From Essential Rumi
Who else gets away with having food on their face, objects in their nose and hair that looks like nap time is an eternal event? Who can bare teeth, then proceed to pee on each of the 173 pieces of seaweed… only be greeted with bacon?
Somewhere along the path to adulthood, my full self expression transformed from cute to bothersome. Somewhere I learned that tattoos and mismatched plaid would never land me a “real” job. Somewhere I absorbed that main stream was going to get me farther, and more accepted, than making other people uncomfortable.
But this stuff of “enlightenment” says to be FULLY self-expressed…commit to be FULLY who you are in any moment!
The problem with full self-expression is that it’s messy. Your version just might not click with my version. And so many versions of “right and wrong expression” have turned a creative, expressive place like California into the most litigious society.
So I watched my dog chase the seagulls and sandpipers wondering if he really thought his yapping and leaping would make them fly straight into his mouth. Or was he just…unleashing pure dog happiness?
And as I exhaustedly shook the last drop of sand from my shoes, I noticed little kids cramming sand down their pants and laughing like it was pure bliss. They obviously had this enlightenment stuff perfected.
I am recommitting to creating a mess in my self-expression.
Even if it means I only hang out with dogs…and children under the age of 5…and have sand in my pants.