Tag: animals, spirituality

I believe the happiness we feel in relation to animals is immensely significant. I believe it is absolutely central to our physical, psychological, and spiritual well-being.

I believe we have this idea that bad things ought to be prevented from happening.

Has it ever struck you as odd that humans are the only creatures on the planet who wear clothes? Everything else, from aardvarks to zebras, is running around in its birthday suit, blissfully unclear of the concept of underpants. Why don’t people do the same?

I take it hard when an animal in my care suffers or dies. I take it even harder when the animal’s suffering is the result of human exploitation or carelessness.

Great teachers often come to us in humble packaging. That little dog held the wisdom of a sage in his heart. I learned from him that healing is not about the success or failure of the physical body, that physical survival is secondary. All creatures wish to live and thrive, but bodies do wear out. The number of days we walk the earth (or fly or swim or crawl on it) is not the point. Animals live in the present moment. If kindness, caring, and respect fill that moment, life is fill, no matter what came before or what might come in the future. A soul that feels loved is joyous and healed.

It is commonplace, and true, to point out that animals are happier than people because they live entirely in the present.

Animals suffer both emotionally and physically, but they don’t suffer metaphysically. That is, they don’t suffer about suffering, don’t get thrown into spiritual confusion by it, or fall out of connection with the divine because of it.

Because we tend to equate intelligence with language–particularly the ability to use language to think and communicate abstractions–it is natural to conclude that animals are, on the whole, a lot less intelligent than we are.

Animals don’t know exactly what will happen when they die any more than we do. In the absence of specific knowledge, they simply trust. They trust death the way they trust life: as participation in the Source. What will happen when they die must be okay because what is happening now is okay.

The belief that every living thing has an individual soul is called animism. (Anima, which means ‘soul,’ is also the root of the word ‘animal.’) Anthropologists have found this belief to be universal in children, though the children themselves don’t think of it as a belief. It is, to them, one of the most obvious features of the world around them, and the most obvious way of interpreting what goes on in that world.

Animals remind us that all beings who walk, stand, swim, crawl, or fly are radiant, mysterious, and unique expressions of the Source. Every species, every culture, has it’s own genius.

Many people who live with animals have noticed that their cat or dog becomes solicitous of them when they are feeling unwell. A cat who is normally aloof may come sit in the sick person’s lap; a normally rambunctious dog may tone himself down when his human friend isn’t up to romping or running. In some cases, the ability of animals to sense illness in a human has been lifesaving.