Living the Talk

Last week as I was running last minute errands prior to departing to Texas to see some friends, I stopped into small restaurant for a bite to eat.  I had my service dog, Mae, with me.  As anyone with any type of disabilities knows, there are times when we feel like we’re having very good days and not so good days.  Sometimes things fall into place and the stress of the day is less and other days everything attempted seems filled with fear.  Because of this dynamic, sometimes I don’t need Mae and I am quite able to handle life.  This day was not one of the easy days, but . . . the teachings of my spirituality were deep within me.  I walked in with the common looks and observations that a dog, despite her demure physical appearance her presence is quite large, had just entered the restaurant.  As I was seated, I looked out and noticed an older man was speaking to me.  “Some people try to present their dog as a service dog, but they’re really not,” he said.  “What are you saying?” I asked.  His voice got very deep and a strong sense of entitlement began to come over him.  I have lost the ability to remember his exact words but his presentation seemed filled with the notion that he should speak for all who didn’t have their dog with them.  I was hurt very deeply.  Mae at this moment was lying quietly and gently against my feet.  Her pressure was trying hard to soothe my pain.  A waitress came and tried to take my order but the man talked over her and seemed to energetically shove her out of the way.  At this point a complete stranger came over and said to the man:  “You can’t speak to her this way.  She is covered under the Americans with Disabilities Act.”  The man seemed put off by her sentiment.  At this point, the owner came over and intervened.  She said:  “There’s some issue with an animal over here?”  “Yes, ma’am.  This is my service dog.  Here’s her tag.”  Then with a “Thanks Hon”, she was gone and the man was silenced.

After the owner left, the feel of the restaurant changed.  Complete strangers scowled at this man.  He was shunned by all definitions of the word.  Even his wife seemed taken with the turn of the crowd.  During this time I felt very angry and incredibly hurt.  “Who was this stranger to question me?”  Yet I realized that he indeed had a point.  There are people who did what he said.  I began to feel guilty about sometimes needing Mae and sometimes not.   

Then I heard a spiritual teacher’s voice in my head.  My feeling towards this woman can best be summarized in:  “To know her, is to love her.”  Her lessons are incredibly heart felt and genuine.  She has that gift that so few have to speak directly to one’s heart.  In my head, I heard her say:  “This man is full of pain.  Listen to his words.  Look at what has happened.”  Immediately I felt humbled.  I was no longer angry and if anything I hurt for him.  His words and his sentiment were very disgusted, frustrated and that of someone with little power in their life.  Even his wife seemed less than pleased with life.  

Thoughts and feelings of gratitude began to fill me.  Here I was fortunate enough to be able to go on a trip to see my friends because of this little dog.  Mae was truly a gift in my life.  My disabilities did not define me.  I finished eating, having said a silent blessing for this man, his wife, the amazing strangers in that place, my little dog and myself.  Spirit truly filled that place.

I have often wondered if I “got” what the Divine was teaching.  That day was evidence that I had.  It will be an ongoing challenge to live in a spiritual way, but for me, there is no other.