Merging with the eternal, one organism at a time...

"Now, this is my job, I will not quit it
Pulled me out the depths when I thought that I was finished
Yeah I questioned if I could go the distance
That's just the work, regardless of who's listening, listening

Listen, see I was meant to be a warrior
Fight something amongst me, leave here victorious
Classroom of kids, or a venue performing
If I'd had done for the money I'd have been a fucking lawyer

Concrete, vagabond, van telling stories
Humbled by the road, I'm realizing I'm not important
See life's a beautiful struggle, I record it
Hope it helps you maneuvering through yours and
That's why we stay in the lab at night
I've been staring into this pad for over half my life
A true artist won't be satisfied
So I guess that's the sacrifice
And I say

Make the money, don't let the money make you
Change the game, don't let the game change you
I'll forever remain faithful, All my people stay true..." Macklemore

This post contains some reflections about life, death, consciousness and physiology... Just a small topic. Bear with me. I have a few separate thoughts to share, and then a convergence of them to ponder...These are not meant to be declarations of fact nor of faith. They are just ponderings. I am still recovering from Max's sudden decline and death so that will color my thoughts a bit, but then, that is one of my points....Let me begin: 

1. Stress and emotions (grief being one cause of these) influence what pathways we use in our brains to process information. They influence what we remember and what can trigger those memories. There is an interplay between 2 brain regions (the amygdala and the hippocampus) in regard to how/what we remember. This is why sometimes a smell or a passing image can trigger a vivid memory. That's your amygdala activating. The stronger the "emotional content' of the original event, the more the amygdala is involved. 

2. It not uncommon that after someone close to you dies, you "feel their presence." Maybe you just expect to see them somewhere...I have a vivid recollection of my son's first communion which happened about 3 months after my dad died. I felt him there in the church. I expected to look up and see him. Those moments may be more intense and more frequent initially, and then fade.

3. IF consciousness is a property of the universe (like gravity eg see my earlier posts), and individual organisms/beings tap into this property in different ways and to different extents depending on their biological composition, then what happens when the individual biological organism dies and gives up it's biochemical "ego"?

4. When the physical being dies, it decays and turns back to "dust", to molecules, to atoms, is it's tie with consciousness then released back into the universe? If so can others who are close to them pick up some of that individuality during the process?  If you have shared memories and shared sensations then is part of the consciousness that the individual  "used" for lack of a better word, then able to be a part of you- even if "just" as a memory. Remember memories have emotional content and emotion influences what we remember and how we invoke that memory...

Initially after a loss, the grief is more acute, and the memories are stronger, the connection feels more "real", more physical. But then time passes and the acuity of the grief can fade, and maybe some of the emotion related to the memories changes, can it be that other being has become a part of you and so more familiar and "unremarkable"? I'd like to believe it is a gain and not a loss of your connection.

And when you die, who will you merge with? We are all part of the whole.

Remember, I am a person who understands the world as a scientist, as one who respects the mysteries remaining and the power of stories. I think they all interconnect. Learning more about the science, shouldn't devalue the experience.

Just some ramblings. I would love to hear your thoughts...Also read "Behave" by Robert Sapolsky (2017). Don't be put off by the length or the book or the "scientific" content. He is a wonderful writer and the book is so full of information and thoughts to ponder. I will end with his final words from the book: 

"If you had to boil this book down to a single phrase, it would be "It's complicated." Scientists keep saying, "We used to think X, but now we realize that..." Eventually it can seem hopeless that you can make things better. But we have no choice but to try. And if you are reading this, you are probably ideally suited to do so. You've amply proven you have intellectual tenacity. You probably also have running water, a home, adequate calories, and low odds of festering with a bad parasitic disease. You probably don't have to worry about Ebola virus, warlords or being invisible in your world. And you've been educated. In other words, you're one of the lucky humans. So try."

And then: "Finally, you don't have to choose between being scientific and being compassionate."

Amen.

My spotify playlist is in progress, but Bob Schneider's newest release: "I Love this Life." is definitely on it and a great listen.

Peace out.

Sheila

PS Bonus quote from "The Maytrees" Annie Dillard 2007 "It was then Lou began to wonder: If overcoming self centeredness was the goal, then why were we born into a selfish stew? "

For Max and all the good dogs out there

 Dog Talk

"And it is exceedingly short, his galloping life. Dogs die so soon. I have my stories of that grief, no doubt many of you do also. It is almost a failure of will, a failure of love, to let them grow old--or so it feels. We would do anything to keep them with us, and to keep them young. The one gift we cannot give...

But I want to extol not the sweetness nor the placidity of the dog, but the wilderness out of which he cannot step entirely, and from which we benefit. For wilderness is our first home too, and in our wild ride into modernity with all its concerns and problems we need also all the good attachments to that origin that we can keep or restore. Dog is one of the messengers of that rich and still magical first world. The dog would remind us of the pleasures of the body with its graceful physicality, and the acuity and rapture of the senses, and the beauty of forest and ocean and rain and our own breath. There is not a dog that romps and runs but we learn from him...

And we are caught by the old affinity, a joyfulness--his great and seemly pleasure in the physical world. Because of the dog's joyfulness, our own is increased. It is no small gift. It is not the least reason why we should honor as well as love the dog of our own life, and the dog down the street, and all the dogs not yet born. What would the world be like without music or rivers or the green and tender grass? What would this world be like without dogs?"  from "Dog Songs" Mary Oliver 2013.

Max died yesterday. We helped him along to the next phase of his journey. In the process we tore out a piece of our hearts for him to take along. Right now the hole feels 5 miles wide.

Max was almost 15 years old. He was with us for a solid 14 years. Rescued unexpectedly one day to take our dog number from 2 to 3. 

First there was Rosy (1989-2003) or "Lady Rosalita of the Meadow" as she was known to the AKC. She was a liver and white springer spaniel who was our first baby. Oh she loved to run and swim and fetch the ball again and again and again.

Next came Dave, aka Davidson County Jr (1996-2012) where we stumbled upon him in a horrid animal "shelter." He was our first rescue dog and had lived a feral existence his first 4 months as did many dogs in Davidson County, NC. He never really lost his desire to roam. He always came home except for the one night he was picked up by the police and spent a night at a "holding site" before we tracked him down. He was a gentleman and a protector. 

After we lost Rosy, Dave needed a friend. We learned a bit about trying to rescue a dog on purpose. For example, if you want to try to rescue a specific breed of dog...well you might more easily adopt a human child... Eventually we found Lucy (2004-2016) at La Mancha animal rescue in Unionville, PA, a wonderful farm whose owner accepts and cares for any animal in need. There we found Lucy a 6 week old black puppy that had been found with her brother next to her mother who had been hit by a car. She was "part lab". In fact she was bull terrier/pit bull. A beautiful dog who first learned how to be from Dave and then promptly took over as alpha dog. She was VERY food motivated. Loved us, loved sitting by the fire and snuggling with us and usually liked a walk...if she wasn't in the mood she simply sat in the sidewalk and refused to move. 

Max came along when Lucy was just 2. We were back at La Mancha volunteering when the uhaul truck from NC full of crates of dogs pulled up. We helped unload the dogs. Someone handed me this terrified black (truly lab mix) puppy who looked like he would be eaten alive by the other "lab mixes" and said to me "Find a place for this one." I did. He came home with us the next day to make us a 3 dog family and firmly enamored with these 3 black dogs. 

Dave lived until he was 15 1/2.  We got Sam (Sammy Sam Sam Sam Sam) our first black and white dog in 2015. I was perusing the "Mastiffs to Mutts" rescue site for big dogs. He is a big tuna - long body, "big" head, floppy ears, fluffy coat. My giant dachshund... Oh we love our Sammy and he loves to take walks especially in the woods. Sammy looked to Max and Lucy for advice. Lucy was in charge. 

Lucy died in 2016. She was only 12 but developed bone cancer.  Max and Sam were bereft. They were a team without a leader. We found Lily (a white dog of all things- well she has some black spots and patches) at "Dogtown." She is a little high strung, and very agile part whippet we think. She is definitely in charge but sometimes a bit of a bully....she is a work in progress, as are we all.

Max was our patient, loving, good boy. He loved to run in the woods, and zoom around the yard. I always wished we had a bigger yard for him. He was always happy to walk, even on his last day he instigated a walk around the block, that after a swim in the creek.  He was such a wonderful boy. He was part wolf we think...a little aloof at time, he loved to be outside, lying in the garden or in one of the "clubhouses" he created for himself in the yard from stray sticks. He also loved to sit at the top of our deck stairs and survey the street and other yards to alert us of any danger- especially "the Boxers!" He also claimed the living room couch as his own and loved to sit there in the afternoon when the sun shone in. He was the LEAST food motivated dog I have ever met. His early days included a fall through the ice at a local lake while chasing geese. We pulled him out risking our own lives without thinking twice about it. He did eat the arms off our lovely linen covered, down filled couch my sister gave us...that was a sight to come home too. It only took me a few minutes to decide I loved him more than any couch. Max was our link to the wilderness that Mary Oliver talks about. In fact one day he tried to bring in the wilderness through his dog door to the house in the form of a very dead, very stiff ground hog... "Too much nature Max.." 

Max aged very well. He was never plagued by the arthritis that slowed our other dogs down. He walked and swam and played right up until the end. Just a month ago we took him to NC and we all walked on the beach. Then he just stopped eating, and started to lose weight, and started to fade away. First he refused dog food but ate chicken, then no chicken but ate ground beef or turkey, then no more, then sausage. He loved pita chips and corn chips until close to the end, as much as he loved any food. He rejected the "stringy pasta" he used to eat. One day last week I asked my husband what was for dinner. He replied, we are having hamburgers, Max is having steak...sadly he didn't eat more than a bite. In the space of 10 days he just fell apart. Oh he tried to hang on for us, pain meds helped briefly. The vet found a mass on his liver last week. It was the longest and shortest week of my life. We had to make the decision of when and if to help him go. It is a hellish time. Are we giving him enough time? Are we waiting too long? In the end, I know it was his time. But the world is so empty without him. Max I hope you are in a better place. Maybe you are part of the universal consciousness now. Maybe you are with Rosy, Dave and Lucy. I hope you are at peace.

I was at the edge of the creek the other day. I go there often to find peace, to forget the world and remember beauty and joy, usually with a dog or two. I realized that day that my dogs are like the river. We come to them to forget the rest of the world and they help us remember what is important, they bring us joy and peace and companionship. The river's edge changes a bit through time but it is always the same place of comfort. The individual drops of water  however are never the same. They head onward, out to the sea, back up to the sky, returning as rain to nourish the world. Our dogs are the water, they are the river. There are different dogs who flow faster than we do through this life, but they always bring us joy.

We love you Max. We will always love you.

Peace,

Sheila

Suggested reading: "Dog Songs" Mary Oliver 2013

                                "Travels with Charley" John Steinbeck 1962

Playlists: Sunday with Max, and Happy Songs for Max,  both public on spotify, search smknerr or follow links below: 

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1chXxDdOSln6dH4gX8yelC?si=31a6ab558c8d4eed

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6PKFtob8firGLOWOuVotci?si=f31520203c0b4f75