I had an epiphany of sorts this morning.
I wasn’t doing anything special, just standing at the gate to the pasture, holding it open for the dogs, when I “captured” a very distinct feeling.
As I completed my morning walk with the dogs, I tried to sort out whether it was a true epiphany or just the lunatic ravings of the sleep-deprived before ultimately deciding the two were quite possibly differences without distinction.
I was standing at the gate to the pasture, holding it open for the dogs so we could continue our morning routine, when Mercy came barreling up the hill, bounding, leaping, spinning, and running straight for me. All at once, I was seized with an overwhelming sense of how strangely at peace and calm I was with the beauty and wonder of her madcap dance, and imminently frantic and scared I was of what seemed to be our inevitable and impending collision.
Thankfully, disaster was averted as I executed a well-practiced matador sidestep and Mercy pinwheeled gracefully through the open gate.
Walking with Mercy is a lot like playing a marathon game of low-speed “chicken” without having first obtained all parties’ consent. You find yourself constantly checking over your shoulder to keep her in your sights, lest you be bowled over unawares.
As with this morning, some times you think a collision is impending and fated, when she will pull up or careen around you at the last minute. You learn that her movement or trajectory can be affected by just the slightest touch to a hip or flank. You discover the Cha Cha DiGregorio deep within by swinging open the front door to release the hounds, exhorting Mercy to pull up and press on, or celebrating a perfectly executed lope across the yard.
Perhaps epiphany is overstated. Possibly all people walk through life with a mixture of jubilation and terror, although I tend to think not. Maybe this is just the texture of emotions we call life at MisFit Farm.