“You have to go the way your blood beats. If you don’t live the only life you have, you won’t live some other life, you won’t live any life at all.”     James Baldwin

There are things I ‘can’t-not-do’ … Scratch a mosquito bite, run back to the parking lot just after entering Costco to make sure I locked the car if I didn’t recall hearing the ‘beep,’ eat only one potato chip, question whether or not I turned off all electrical appliances when on the rare occasion I leave the farm for an extended period of time, or, as I have been doing the entire month of March, write a story inspired by the hypnotic effect of looking deeply into my Great Pyrenees puppy’s eyes. 

Puppy, though technically correct is a stretch. Moose is 16 months old and weighs in around 115 pounds. Giant breed dogs are considered puppies for at least the first two years. It’s not easy to keep that in mind all the time since he’s huge. Puppy? But he does have those endearing eyes. 

Moose and I have regular love-on-me sessions. I sit on a bench outside and he pads over and presses up to my side. This, I have come to know is a signature characteristic of a GP … they are leaners extraordinaire, and have a great need, almost as big as their size, to be loved on.

In our ‘loving-on’ sessions I frequently have the opportunity to gaze into his eyes. I get lost in those soulful apertures. I have known a lot of dogs in my life, yet I have never known one who feels so deeply rooted in the past. I find myself being transported through time when I look into his eyes … An odd sensation like being carried through millennia on the howling history of this magnificent breed. 

This connection with Moose has taken a hold of my senses and has been provoking my imagination bringing with it images, history, soul, and the powerful magic of story. I have found myself compelled to release this experience into words that began to flow like water. A month later … The Little Known Story of the Magical Beginnings of the Great Pyrenees sits on my computer … a thing I ‘can’t-not-do.’ 

What gives life meaning? In the dailiness of human struggle to come to terms with fear, loss, anger, destruction, and grief, what is it that carries us through to joy, empathy, compassion and love? For me, it’s story. It’s the way I hold the disparate events of life in my mind and heart. The way I make sense of this earthly journey. 

Everywhere I look, every step I take there is wonder. In the masters of the sky whose winged flights and melodic songs fill the air we breathe, in the stalwart trees that withstand all with strength and dignity, in the verdant grasses that carpet the ground under our feet, in the massive sculptural stones that hold a place for the past, present and future, in the eyes and souls of the creatures who walk among us … all these and more speak stories of the earth.

Our world is unravelling and we need stories now more than ever. Phillip Pullman is quoted saying, “After nourishment, shelter, and companionship, stories are the thing we need the most in the world.”

We need stories of courage to bolster our own weakening resolve. Tales that work on our souls, inspire us to do that which at times seems impossible. Those timid dreams that lie deep inside and tug at our conscience in the quiet. If we listen, really listen to the voice inside prompting us forward beyond fear and doubt, we can create within ourselves a new story to live into. 

The very best thing about my father was that he was a master story-teller. Not unlike ancient tribes who kept their history alive by repeating and adding to the stories of their lives, he would do the same. Not around a fire, but the kitchen table. In that modest setting I would sit with rapt attention when he came home from work. I listened and heard what some might consider boring details of a Chicago used car salesman. For me, it was thrilling, for he would cloak the stuff of his daily experiences in a richly embellished story. Those stories opened my heart and mind to wonder in all things no matter how small.

Einstein said, “Imagination is more important than knowledge.” No doubt knowing things can take you far, but imagination can take you all the way home to yourself … to the very reason you’re here to begin with. Imagination is your portal into your true self, the story you can choose to live into.

So far The Little Known Story of the Magical Beginnings of the Great Pyrenees is 30 full pages, 18 chapters long and I haven’t written the ending yet. What will become of it? I have no idea, I only know I had to write it. I chose to follow the thread of imagination, trusting that there is purpose in the greater mind inhabiting my soul … I had to go the way my blood beats. 

What’s your story?