All dead white boys say "God is good"

My dog is lying on the floor asleep and his legs are twitching.

We believe in something called "the measure of [one's] creation." From my extremely rudimentary and Wikipedia-based understanding of Eastern philosophy, it seems to correspond roughly to the concept of Tao or Dharma: essentially, it's the sum of what we're here to do and be, and carries with it the idea that every created thing has a purpose in the divine economy.

My dog, I've learned, was born to play fetch. He can chase a stick until it falls apart in his mouth; all day and all night if we'd let him. I've never seen anybody enjoy anything as much as he enjoys chasing a stick. So now, because he's stuck in the house and bored, and because he's a good dog, God is giving him stick-chasing dreams. I'm a little envious.

I've been thinking about this, because it's evidence that the happiest things in life are the ones that are filling the measure of their creation--however simple that is. In some ways it's general--we're all meant to keep the commandments, we're all meant to love and be loved, etc.--but it's also very specific. Part of the measure of my Dad's creation, for example, is to work outside with his hands. He doesn't always enjoy it, but it's not entirely about enjoyment. It's just one thing he's meant to do, and another lifestyle would probably be unnatural and ill-fitting.

It leads me to believe that our role as stewards of God's creation (and as stewards of one another, our brothers' keepers) is to help others fulfill the measure of their creation. That's why we become fathers and mothers, husbands and wives, brothers and sisters, and children. It's also why I'm going to take the dog out to play fetch when he wakes up.

--Kevin