This morning I sat out on my deck looking over my vast lawn and the landscaped shrubs and trees marking the edges of the yard. I started to imagine communities of tiny little people living at the base of the grass and wondering what their lives must be like. What do they delight in, what brings them joy and pleasure? What do they fear?
While I was going through this mental exercise, escaping into the vast and seemingly endless universe of my imaginary people, my two Australian Shepherds sat by side, also looking over the field in front of them, but with an entirely different preoccupation. Fading back into the world of the little grass people, I thought, “How much is out of their control? How many elements to their reality would they be unaware of and unable to comprehend? How overwhelming that must be for them?”
Just think about these giant shadowy beasts that trample their forests, and kick up the earth upon which their entire livelihoods are built, with no regard for the invisible inhabitants whatsoever. Or the terrifying phoenix that descends from the sky and occasionally plucks them, clinging desperately to one of the limbs of their six or eight legged horses. How frightening this life must be!
Yet, think of all the possibilities for adventure and heroism that exist among the massive branches and fortresses that only the most brave among them have visited and returned to recount. Imagine the number of wild and amazing creatures that would take multiple lifetimes to study, only to be partially educated about their ways.
The more I let myself daydream of this tiny little kingdom I invented, the more humbling my own reality becomes. My real fears mirror theirs, but so do my opportunities, probably even more so.
