Conversations with Virgin Mary
Jorge stood up and told me:
“I think we need to finish this conversation on another occasion. I have things to do.”
I didn’t expect that reaction from Jorge about radiation. I think I touched a very sensitive nerve. Should I ask, or should I remain silent? I decided not to ask. Maybe on another occasion I can dig deeper into this issue.
I finished my drink, thanked Jorge for his hospitality, and returned home.
The problem with the molar disappeared. I had more important problems to attend to.
I was finishing a small postcard made with a blue BIC pen. I was also working on another paper bag using acrylic markers, preparing a series of portraits in oil and ink, sending applications to the Serpentine Gallery, the Paul Mellon Centre, the Canada Council for the Arts, and even preparing a series of banners for my own town. Something should eventually stick.
The silence was unbearable.
Very few projects had germinated this year, and waiting for results was almost the only option I had left.
All the art institutions were now in a kind of pause, as if they were on summer vacation. They were preparing programs for the next year, starting in September, but they were not in a hurry. They would wait until August before sending any answers.
It was useless to expect a result next week.
Sunday, June 23rd
Be like your dog.
There is a certain expectation before walking a dog. Look at your dog’s reaction: her face, her gaze, her posture. Maybe she doesn’t fully understand what is about to happen, but she knows that something exciting is coming.
Do you remember your first time walking a dog? Was it your own dog or someone else’s? Do you remember its name?
Where did you walk? Was it a long walk or just around the block?
Did you wear earbuds while walking? Are you trying to avoid something? Why do you want to hear the news or a song when you can hear the morning itself: birds, chipmunks, geese, toads, frogs?
There is a concert performing in front of you, and you are blocking it with your own thoughts.
Open your senses. Avoid every kind of interruption during your walks.
Can’t you see your dog?
She is not wearing earbuds. She is not browsing the internet or scrolling through Instagram. She is waiting for whatever may come. She is smelling, listening, watching. All her senses are awake, expecting new things.
Be like your dog.
Smell, listen, watch. Be alert.
The quieter you become, the more you can hear. The more you can observe.
Your senses awaken, and everything becomes clearer.
Why do you insist on staying behind a small screen, waiting for nothing, endlessly watching what other people are doing?
Your dog is always expecting you, watching your movements so you can walk together.
Be like your dog.
I have a task for you this week: walk your dog and imitate her.
When she smells something, stop and smell. When she reacts to a sound, pay attention. See what is happening. When she greets other dogs, you should also greet their owners.
That is the task.
Be like your dog.
I will compensate your embarrassment with a messenger.
Wait for it.
OK. I can’t deny that she has a point.
My dog is always alert to what I am doing. She looks as if she has an internal clock that knows the exact time.
Lulu is my alarm clock. Every day, at the same time, she takes my hand, leads me to the door, and asks for her walk.
She is alert, and she knows exactly what she wants. She never doubts. She is direct.
So, OK. I accepted the challenge.
I walked my dog around the neighbourhood.
I literally stopped every minute to smell and pay attention to whatever she was following.
Every day she chooses a different path. This time it was around the pond. There were no other dogs around us, but I could hear the bullfrogs in the water. I also heard the cardinals in the trees.
I was amazed by how green the park was. It looked like a tropical forest full of life: bees, flies, birds.
Then we met a neighbour and her dog. I know the dog’s name very well, but I realized I had never learned hers.
I just gave a shy “hi” again while Lulu was greeting Maui for the nth time.
I tried to be friendly and warm, but again, I didn’t ask her name.
Then we met our neighbours beside us. They were playing with their kids and with the children from the house in front of them. Everyone was happy. I just waved hello from the other side of the street.
Even if the experience wasn’t exactly what Virgin Mary asked for in her letter, it was enlightening.
I saw the neighbourhood for the first time in a while. I mean, I wasn’t distracted thinking about something else. I tried to put all my attention on what was happening around me.
And for the first time, I didn’t pull Lulu’s leash. I let her stay for long periods of time with every step she took.
I told myself I should repeat it.
So, the next day, I did it again.
Same time. Different route, because Lulu decided it.
Different neighbours, different sounds, but also new discoveries.
Sometimes you don’t need to do anything extraordinary to change your perspective. Sometimes you only need to be present.
So, I went to Jorge’s again, partly to apologize for my stubbornness, but also to tell him about my experience.
Virgo was with him, and he was busy writing. There were some papers on the table.
After I explained my experience, he started laughing again.
“You looked like a child who just discovered an amusement park. Everything you told me has been there for years. It was there before you or I existed, and you are telling me this is your first experience?”
I felt embarrassed again.
At first, I didn’t know what to answer. I didn’t want to make another clumsy comment that could deteriorate my relationship with him, so I just nodded.
He continued:
“When you were a child, you were like your dog. Everything was exciting. Everything was new. Everything made you smile and laugh. The letter is just a reminder of how you were and why it is important to remain curious. It is even good for your art.
Be like your dog.”
There was a change in the way I saw Jorge, and in the way I saw the letters from Virgin Mary.
Before, I thought about solemnity, authority, and wise advice. And probably yes, all of that is here in the letters.
But not in the way I was taught.
Not as a teacher and apprentice relationship.
More like peers working together, where I learn but also teach, and then something different and unexpected emerges.
Leave a Reply