This is Fergus Festus. For the very best of reasons, he is named after a town in Missouri.

Because I had asthma as a child, I grew up without dogs. I wasn’t allowed to pet a dog. Or visit a friend’s home if that home contained dogs. I wished with my whole being to someday share my life with a dog.

I have now had dogs most of my adult years and, thanks to extensive tutoring by those dogs, I’ve finally learned how to open my life fully to them. Ours has evolved into a crate-free, pet food-from-scratch, dog-forward sort of home.

I have loved many dogs, each for being completely themselves, but never had an animal companion quite like this one. He is the only dog I’ve known who gives long hugs with his cheek against us and his front legs around us.

He is even more so an eye contact creature. He searches for my gaze in that deep pool of openness way that baby’s eyes do. He gladly does his own thing while I work at my desk, but when I’m on the couch or the floor he stays on my lap as I read a book or talk or look at my phone. Even though I rest one hand on him, scratch him lightly, sometimes it is not enough.

Look at me ,he says, his thoughts almost clear as speech. I do. I look into his eyes and wonder what he’s thinking and say a few sweet words to him and rub his little body, then go back to what I was doing.

No, he says. Really look. So I do, I really do.

I look and see a little ways beyond looking. I sink into the quiet awareness he offers any time I can settle myself into it. He’s not demanding attention, he’s giving it. He’s not seeking love, he is tutoring me in love’s mutuality.

As we gaze at each other I can’t help but draw in a deep breath and let out an even deeper exhale. This is what presence feels like. It’s an entry into the space/no space between us that Buber called I and Thou.

We’re all aware terror is being stoked and terror is happening in the US and around the world. I pay attention to news from a variety of sources. I do what I can to push back. But I simply can’t face it constantly. I find refuge in the powerful healing energy of stories written and shared in my writing classes. I find refuge in family gatherings, with the faces and voices of the people I love filling our home. I find it in quiet rituals of morning coffee with the spouse, taking walks, preparing meals. I find it in good books and good conversation. I find it sitting quietly with my guru.

How are you finding refuge in these times?