Little Things

I have always collected little things. I guess because I knew at some level that "God is in the details" as a teacher once told me. Science has shown us that we live in an amazing universe where even the tiniest of beings are comprised of incredible complexities of sacred geometry. The patterns that we see around us are reflections of the patterns in our brain and within all the tiny cells that make up our bodies. We also know that all things including inanimate objects are essentially alive with energy.

“Blessed are they who see beautiful things in humble places where other people see nothing.
~Camille Pisarro”

A few years ago I made a purchase at the store of a beautiful cathedral in Buffalo, NY called the Our Lady of Victory Basilica. I periodically go there to light a candle and say prayers when I'm feeling called to ask for help beyond the daily guidance I receive. It was my first time in the lower level shop. That day I found a beautiful metal dog tag which invoked the blessings and protection of St. Francis, the protector of all creatures. I kept it for years, but it wasn't until our pit bull Dawson arrived, that I felt he was the dog it was meant for. I attached it to his collar shortly after his arrival from the Buffalo Animal Shelter.

A few weeks ago I suddenly noticed that Dawson was only wearing two tags. The third one of St. Francis was missing. I was so disappointed. Of all the ones to lose, it had to be this one. I knew I had seen it on him the previous day. I thought perhaps we had lost it during our last walk in the nearby park. So that day I took the very same route and began looking on the ground everywhere for it, but to no avail. It was nowhere to be found.

Somehow I just felt intuitively that tag would return to us because of the significance it held. That night I told my higher self that I would like the tag returned to us, wherever it might be. The very next morning as I took Dawson outside to do his business, having forgotten all about the previous day, I suddenly looked down on the ground of our expansive backyard and there gleaming in the grass was the St. Francis metal. I was astounded to say the least. What are the chances of recovering an item the size of a quarter on 3/4 acre of land?

Clarissa Harison is an advocate for the natural world and has been writing since the 90s about her experiences with nature on behalf of those who have no voice. Her travels and observations healing her own land, as well as her diverse background in international studies, energy of space, the corporate world and consulting/teaching work have led her to develop an intimate understanding of the perfection existing in nature and our own individual journey of finding our way back to ourselves and ultimately restoring the well being of our planet.

2017 Copyright Awen Environments/Clarissa Harison. All rights reserved.

Saving Goliath

For many years now I have been wanting a Staffordshire Terrier for some reason. I think because they have such a bad reputation and are so misunderstood. And for years I would see pictures of rescue pit bulls and read their stories and in my mind I kept seeing a grey one that I knew I would have some day. In the mean time, I rescued and adopted several of the wrong dogs for us, but in the end I knew they were meant to be saved and eventually ended up in wonderful homes.

About a month ago my niece contacted me about a Shiba Inu named Max that was at the City of Buffalo Animal Shelter. Being familiar with the breed and intrigued because he had the same name as my son, we went to see Max, but he was adopted that day. Somehow I felt we were meant to be at the shelter and look around to see what other dogs were looking for homes. After two separate visits that week, we couldn't agree between two completely different dogs- a female pit bull and an adorable Chihuahua mix that looked like a tiny fox. I decided to look one more time. There happened to be a handsome grey and white pit bull that drew my attention initially but did not seem to want to come out, so we went to look at him again.

The day of Goliath's arrival with sadness and fear of his past still lingering in his eyes..

Clarissa Harison is an advocate for the natural world and has been writing since the 90s about her experiences with nature on behalf of those who have no voice. Her travels and observations healing her own land, as well as her diverse background in international studies, energy of space, the corporate world and consulting/teaching work have led her to develop an intimate understanding of the perfection existing in nature and our own individual journey of finding our way back to ourselves and ultimately restoring the well being of our planet.

2017 Copyright Awen Environments/Clarissa Harison. All rights reserved

Goliath was caged between two other dogs that were huge and very loud. I could tell that he was stressed but we tried one more time and no sooner was he outside in the fresh air, he affectionately jumped on us and gave us all his attention. This had not happened with the other two dogs in question. They had seemed to be more interested in everyone and everything else. Goliath chose us despite his fearful surroundings and in that moment we immediately felt a heart connection to him. He was the dog I had envisioned so many years ago and he immediately fit in when we got him home. It felt like he had been with us forever.

No sooner did Goliath arrive than the right home opened up for our other dog that I had been trying to place for 5 years due to her anxiety issues of being in a suburban environment. Her new home on 55 acres was ideal for her. Everything seemed to be falling into place unexpectedly just because of another dog named Max.

It took several days, but we decided to name Goliath "Dawson". It was my son's choice. Later I found out that Dawson means "son of David, the beloved". I couldn't think of a more appropriate name. He is a sweetheart and filled with love. He is so grateful to be part of our family.