Light Enough


Dear Eugene,

My dog Sumi got better, visibly better to my eyes, since yesterday.  I don't really know what's actually happened to her since last week.  I think it is a combination of innards issue and hind-limb tissue.  I've experienced only the sacraments of a deep reality in her.

I told her yesterday, "Well, Zum, if one day anything is going to happen to you that I will need to cut you open or pay a lot of money to simply give a name to what's happening to you, I think I will just let you go.

To begin with I don't want to cut you open, not in a major way anyway.  It might not kill you but it will kill me.  I can't have salt water covering my face 24/7 without suffering skin issue.  You know I am superficial.  In any case I will see you in eternity so it's good to know you will be all of one piece when we meet again.  Don't ask me for the theology of that and if someone is to offer you any please just chew it up and spit it out.  Don't swallow it: you will get sick again.  Sicker than I was in my impressionable years.

And, second, and I think more importantly, much more comfortingly, I will use the likely thousands of dollar I would have spent to make a mess of you to feed and clothe and speak for those who are in need to be revived and revivified, God's creatures big and small.  I will give in your name, BUT, of course I won't mention your name, cos I know you are not that kind of dog.  You are just a little lady too crazy about living to worry about dying.

So let me do the worrying and you focus on what you are good at, e.g. bark when I vacuum, never failing once, growl at anything in any shape animated in any way as if just for moving they are stealing living energy from you.  That is a good way to reign.  (I was using the online dictionary just now and on the right there's ad about dog care; do you know you rule the internet too?)

So, no hard feeling, Zum?  It is nothing impersonal.  It is light, light enough, to let it go."

Now Eugene, here's why I am telling you what I was saying to Sumi.  You see, I don't think she totally got me.  If by chance one day you see her a bit perplexed wandering on the streets of gold, would you pastor her back to health?

And if it's not too much to ask, would you take her in?

You don't need to answer me now.  I know it is a definite Yes to my first ask; you can't help.  Even knowing that is good enough for me.  But do think about the second.

Thanks in advance, Alex

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

One World, This

Image
Dear Eugene, I am sure some would object to what I said yesterday .  Based on the kind of education we are getting, maybe we should all object. Well, science can explain a lover's kiss , one says, We must know this by now.   Things that go on in a lover's head, bring to bear a series of trigger working together and crossing paths to conjure up what finally a poet would pick up the slack to call "romance."  It's simply a release of chemical cocktail that heroin and cocaine too can effectively concoct, just as "obsessive compulsive" in its serotonin-ian nature to give us a long good memory, just as culturally conditioned, almost like a basic human instinct. Who are we (to answer yesterday's question again) to say what actually  "shapes" us?  Science can explain ourselves to us, and does a better job every next morning.  The rest are just tassels on the fringe, perfunctory footnotes to scientific facts--the only truthful account of actua
Keep reading

He Walks Our Line

Image
Dear Eugene, The sun is brilliant today, best time of year, not too hot, not too cold, not too anything , a good life hangs finely in the balance of a myriad of capricious elements, mostly hidden, many I won't even come to identify let alone make sense of before my little life ends. Two mornings ago I read in the news that a suicide bomber attacked a voter registration center in Afghanistan, killing 31 people.  Yesterday morning the headline was gone, and I had to search online to see the casualty was then more than doubled. If I didn't quickly scan the headlines Sunday morning I would not even know something like this had happened, like the registering voters knew not a bomb was in their midst, and by the time they knew for sure there would be no point in knowing, let alone trying to make sense of the blast or piecing smithereens back together.  A line was drawn to divide before and after, life and death, hope and despair; a line that gives and takes away the meaning of
Keep reading

A Word for the Caveman

Image
Dear Eugene, We could imagine when a caveman was chased by a T-Rex, the nature man would naturally cry for help. His shriek would have been a plead no less earnest than ours when we lost control of our vehicle to an evil sheet of ice.  If after years of high education we could in our final moment at least wrap our spinning head around the physics of skating in a ball of metal into our death, the caveman wouldn't have the luxury of comparable enlightenment to come to terms with his demise under the chicken-feet of a leviathan. Who was the caveman crying to?  In whose name was his prayer going to be answered, if at all?  And if he could not even utter an intelligible syllable comprehensible to himself, who was going to speak on his behalf when he was most in need to be spoken for? Now these are the questions I would ask a Christian if I am not one. Not too long ago a pastor tried to warn me about N. T. Wright by saying he's cool with the dude and all, but make sure I
Keep reading