I feel weightless. “The Practice”, Thích Nhất Hạnh calls it. Yesterday when I was playing ball with the kids an unfamiliar dog appeared. He was a dirty brown, matted fur. He walked with a limp, there was saliva dripping from his mouth, his eyes were red, he seemed to be teetering on the threshold of death. I rushed my kids inside the house before they saw him. I did not know what sickness he had and I needed my kids to be safe. He hovered around outside the gate a while before trudging off in the opposite direction. Dragging himself. I felt great pain, I wanted to help him, but my dharma was to first protect myself and my kids. And then really would not any form of ‘help’ just prolong the pain he was in. I was conflicted but let it go. Today I meditated for him, prayed for him. Forgive me little dog.