Here’s a letter sent to me today from a friend and reader – it really does add some truth to my previous post about living soulfully…
Dan…my kind neighbor and friend Todd gave me this pearl today after the following series of events:
1) found the stray hound dog I’ve been feeding and trying to coax into my car for the past month, on the side of the road, with a bad injury. Someone had run her over and not stopped to help her.
2) called Todd, as Jeff is away, and he carried the dog into my car and I drove her to the vet.
3) received a positive diagnosis and agreed to adopt the lovely girl after phone-conferencing with Jeff
4) payed $240 for the x-rays and exams on lovely dog
5) named her Clementine
6) vet discovered multiple spine fractures and suggested euthanising her
7) she died peacefully.
I am bereft for a dog I’ve known for 4 weeks – she was a beauty.
I wanted to share this with you for some reason – I think after reading your blog, I want to add something to it (dumb, ’cause it’s YOUR blog!!).
Anyway, today, to me, living soulfully sometimes involves letting go of value. By this I mean that the value of money ‘well spent’ on a new thing, or ‘wasted’ on a stray dog, or comparing, adding up, finding opportunity costs, or putting a price on anything, is not soul-nourishing.
I found myself lamenting the loss of the $240 to the few people I told about my doomed dog-rescue, instead of saying how I really felt, which was sad and small and angry that a sweet young animal could be left for dead, especially after I’d tried for weeks to get her to my home. I was wrong to do that in an attempt to hide my sorrow.
Todd saw straight through my misdirected money rage and let me be as upset as I needed to be about the dog. After which I held his baby daughter Carly and wondered why I had to put a price on my feelings. Carly snuggled in and growled like a puppy when I put her down on her blanky and wandered back home to take my own sweet canine friend for a walk and a play at the park.
Tenn rests now on my bed, snorting softly in his sleep – and still manages to keep one eye on me as I write. What he’s worth to my soul is impossible to add up.
Anyway, that was my day. Dogs and neighbors and friends and babies and good, kind people were all around me – and I don’t care what my VISA statement says next month. It’s only money.