Animals in children’s literature always have a soul life because children perceive animals as having souls.
Grieving the loss of a loved one—whether human or animal—is not only permissible, it is essential.
The inner encounters I have with animals—and will be teaching you to have— are exchanges of meaning.
When you have succeeded in letting go of a trivial preoccupation or two, your awareness will begin to expand into the deeper sources of stress in your life, the bigger uncontrollable things that you have been at pains to control.
Every species embodies a solution to some environmental challenge, and some of these solutions are breathtaking in their elegance.
Animals remind us that all beings who walk, stand, swim, crawl, or fly are radiant, mysterious, and unique expressions of the Source. Every species, every culture, has it’s own genius.
We all came into this world wired to connect with all life.
I take it hard when an animal in my care suffers or dies. I take it even harder when the animal’s suffering is the result of human exploitation or carelessness.
It is commonplace, and true, to point out that animals are happier than people because they live entirely in the present.
Animals suffer both emotionally and physically, but they don’t suffer metaphysically. That is, they don’t suffer about suffering, don’t get thrown into spiritual confusion by it, or fall out of connection with the divine because of it.
Because we tend to equate intelligence with language–particularly the ability to use language to think and communicate abstractions–it is natural to conclude that animals are, on the whole, a lot less intelligent than we are.
I believe the happiness we feel in relation to animals is immensely significant. I believe it is absolutely central to our physical, psychological, and spiritual well-being.
I believe we have this idea that bad things ought to be prevented from happening.