It was difficult, outside in my world and inside where I grappled with consequences. I was not happy with myself that I was anxious. With clear memories of him and the peace I had when I was with him did not stick with me here. I felt like I was failing and yet I could not shake it off. I needed to visit the Pond Place and find grounding again. The more I went to him the more I realized how much I need him. I called to Penny and off we went.
Halfway down the path I stopped, stunned by the contrasts. I sank down and then lay down as if I were going to make a snow angel. It felt like everything was alive. The ground beneath me was moving; the dirt was soothing my body. My muscles relaxed, traps and gluts let go and my arms and legs rolled out a bit more. My neck felt loose, and my head could drop from side to side on its stalk. Even my hair drooped. My body sank into the path and let go.
The air was charged with life. The molecules were effervescent with cleansing as I breathed in and out. My skin felt cleansed as well, a bit like a loofa in the shower. The tension in my face left, kind of melted away. I stuck out my tongue to see if I could taste it but it only faintly tingled. I could hear Penny reacting to the air, panting, and trotting in circles around me. Her tongue was slurping as it did when she tasted something new, like a piece of fruit.
She came and lay down in the crook of my arm and put her head on my shoulder. Her body was gently quivering. I heard the paw steps of Aslan arrive and then felt him lay down. Bear joined us.
I became aware of sounds. First the trees. There was the usual faint breeze that stirred the greenery. I heard the differences for the first time. The very soft sounds of a bush moving. It reminded me of the breathing sounds a baby makes when asleep. I heard the scratching of a palm, and the high canopy blowing tenor in the background. Others I could not identify, but the blending was lovely.
The birds, bees and bugs added to the sound. I heard the clicking of a hummer, the caw of a crow, the coo of a dove and the tapping of a woodpecker. Melodies galore enriched the air. The drone of the bees and the zing of the flies. All in all, I realized that I knew but a very small fraction of all the sounds. Rather than cacophony, it all blend perfectly into a song alive with the life of the forest.
I don’t know how long I lay there; reluctant to give up the healing energy I was experiencing. I may well have fallen asleep. Penny made the decision for me as she scrambled up with a little bark. Off she ran to the Pond. I rolled over and slowly stretched myself up, wondering what is next. I felt so much better, the difficulties had disappeared. My monkey mind was quiet. Ahaa…
I walked slowly to the Pond; languid might be the way to describe it. Turned at the bend, I heard the Pond alive with frogs. What I noticed right away were the red-eyed frogs. Light green with blue on their sides and orange feet, they are a delight to see. Smallish, but mighty hoppers, they live mostly in the trees, but come down to mate and lay eggs. I sat down with my back to the wall to watch. It was impossible to track what was going on. Way too many and they moved too fast. Penny was captivated and frustrated. She was used to having a tete-tete with one or two. There were just too many. As I sat quietly, they came my way. Hopping all over me, top of my head, shoulders, and lap. To my amusement, one even tried to land on my nose. Penny gave up and joined me alert, and panting. We watched and watched, never tiring of the show. Then some signal sounded, and they all fled to the trees. Gone. What a blessing to be apart of their lives for a while.
Suddenly, out of the bushes to my right came a huge Komodo Dragon. Now, I know from PBS that they are bad critters. Why one was here now, alarmed me. I grabbed Penny and sat still. It kept coming, head swinging in rhythm to its lumbering, bowlegged walk. It was drooling and testing the air with its tongue. It also smelled bad.
“Lord,” I cried, “what is going on?”
“Can you believe that I bring frogs and dragons into your life for reasons? And the reasons are for your good?”
He spoke from behind me, stepped down off the wall and sat down. (He sat down on my left, and I wished he were between the dragon and me.) The icky reptile kept coming. Penny was shaking and crying. Jesus reached past me and touched her head. She instantly calmed.
“Penny needs a reassuring touch, but I am asking you to decide. Fear the dragon or trust me.”
“Can I do both?”
He chuckled, “so like you to ask, yes, but I believe that as you chose to trust, your fear will vanish.”
“That has happened many times before, Lord, so I will again.”
The dragon had arrived at my feet, the falling drool just missing my toes. It looked at me, then Penny and flicked its tongue her way. Its tongue was yellow and deeply forked. The dragon looked to be almost 10 feet long and about 200 pounds. Its hide was rough like chain mail. This was very scary reptile, and real, not like the extinct T-Rex. I did not like being so close it it, and it smelled like carrion.
Inside I struggled with this very real difficulty. I could not imagine an evil in this place. Only life was here. But and then I stopped the but. I looked at Him and asked, “What are you teaching me?”
“Frogs or dragons — its all the same. From my hand there can only be good.” He made a sound, and the dragon plopped down on its belly and just looked at Jesus. “It is always your choice to believe and act in trust.”
“And you love them too, like the dinosaurs?”
“Yes.”
I smiled, let go of Penny, and dropped my head to his shoulder. Penny got up and went over to the dragon sniffing furiously with a rumbling down deep. Jesus chuckled and said, “watch.” She moved all around it. Then pushed on its side with a paw. She jumped back to see what would happen. It made a humph sound but did not move. Penny then jumped on its back and looked at me with head up and tail wagging. It was if she said, ‘no problem here!’
I started to laugh, and so did Jesus. Then our pond frog friends came back with their frogy chorus. I became aware again of the aliveness of the Pond Place, and my gratitude.
“Thank you, Lord, I get it. Frogs or dragons—no difference in You.”
“That’s correct.”
I looked around to see where my buddies were. Aslan was off to the side, eyes closed like was asleep, or bored, or uninterested. Bear was on his back under a tree, shaded. He was examining his left hind paw. Life just goes on for those two. I was glad they stayed. It was comforting.
We both stood up, as did the dragon. Curious, I walked over and squatted down to say hello. It’s tongue flicked out in response, touching my knee. It was soft and quite pleasant. I began to scratch its head, feeling the sharp rough scales. I remembered where they come from and why the scales are a protection. It turned its head slightly in response and shut its eye! It liked it. And I decided I like it too.
Standing, I watched it lumber off into the underbrush. I turned to say goodbye, but he was gone. Penny trotted up with tail on high, and we walked on out and home. Frogs or dragons, my response, my choice. New way to frame my difficulties.
