My Favourite Thing.

I am tasked to be security over the monthly women’s sweat, an American Indian practice, because ‘for all my relations’, i.e. Mothermouse is taking a fire keeper exam and needs a full crew. I take up position overlooking the surrounding fields, which I later find is slap bang in the middle of the ladies last minute pee area, and consider my role. Being security is not being the welcoming committee so I focus fibre-ly on the fields and ignore the assembling ladies. The doggie side of my nature finds this incredibly difficult but I settle in to two or so hours of the same. The light drifts lower, the night lights in the grass that define the path begin to glow brighter and the fire to heat the rocks cackles its flecks of light throughout the stand of trees round the sweat. It’s a little chilly but a beautiful still evening with absolutely nothing to be secure from. It might appear I am wasting my time doing a job that need not be done, sitting in a field on my own looking at the dim outlines of roofs and trees, but I settle down to enjoy it. On a later security walk through the kitchen garden and into the gloom of the top field I’m startled to find three Hari Crishna’s on a bench doing the same, presumably for the purposes of some enlightenment. Now a few days ago someone posted on Facebook a dog’s and cat’s diary. The cat’s was written as though the cat felt unjustly imprisoned by its humans, which as any cat owner will testify, is quite opposite to the truth. A cat will come and go whenever it likes and only puts up with its pet humans for reasons of food, comfortable sleeping situations and warmth. The dog’s diary on the other hand read, “9am- breakfast, my favourite thing. 9.30am- a car ride, my favourite thing. 10.00am- a walk in the park, my favourite thing. 11.00am- got rubbed and petted, my favourite thing, >>>> 5pm- dinner, my favourite thing” and so on. Now I’ve bounced off various forms of spiritual enlightenment over the years and I have to say for me the dog’s got it right. I could sit at the feet of gurus, follow umpteen different paths and practices, suffer difficult ceremonies, believe in gods and spirits and I would have failed them all if I couldn’t wake up in the morning and say, “Tea and toast, my favourite thing. Do washing up, my favourite thing. Run kids to school, my favourite thing. Go to work, my favourite thing, >>>> bedtime, my favourite thing.” Oh and pointlessly sitting on my own in a field in the dark, my favourite thing.