I was less than a mile from ground zero when Hiroshima burned on August 6, 1945. At age eight, I survived, but I lost six family members, including both parents. Although the embers of the explosion that filled the naked sky so long ago have left me moving toward almost total blindness today, the vision of my heart has become clearer.
A few years ago, I graduated from Guide Dogs for the Blind’s Oregon campus with my second guide dog, Yuki. In Japanese, her name means “fallen snow on a moonlit night.” Yuki is following in the footsteps of my first guide, Michi, who passed away.
Michi means “the way,” and she showed me the way to a new life. She didn’t merely meet my physical need for safe mobility, but also helped me regain a sense of human dignity. It was the privilege of being a partner in life – totally trusting another being, entering into the deepest chamber of her soul – that opened my heart.
Michi taught me that our partnership with others is an extension of the relationship between the divine and human realms. It is the way the human heart can ultimately find peace – by sharing with a partner our undying love, care, and trust. To be willing to give one’s life for another leads to the experience of “yasuragi” – peace in the heart.
Having a guide dog is a social asset for someone who is blind. It opens a door and gives the opportunity for even strangers to connect. I noticed that when I used a cane, sometimes people didn’t talk to me, or didn’t have a reason to talk to me. But when I am holding the harness of my dog, people want to say “hi.” Maybe they recognize me more easily because of the dog. I don’t know, but those are my perceptions.
Life is about partnership. So often I hear people say, “I am self-made. I could climb up the mountain by myself.” There is no man alone in this life journey.
Having a guide dog has given me the assurance that partnership, for me, is a spiritual relationship. Michi gave her soul and her life to me, as much as I committed my life to her guidance. She guided me and I guided her. That was my experience with Michi and it has continued with Yuki.
I recognize physically that Michi is gone. Spiritually, we are still bonded, we are together. Michi’s spirit somehow has transferred to Yuki. She is watching me working with Yuki. As I say goodbye to Michi, I say “you are my heart,” and I am pretty sure God is saying to all of us: “You are my heart.”
In my early days, life was such a struggle just for survival. I spent many years trying to deal with the anger and sorrow I felt over having been robbed of my family and childhood. But I have come to a new understanding now. I often wonder what would have become of me had I continued on in my quest for revenge and retribution. I also wonder what will become of our world if it will not embrace forgiveness and peace and instead continues on its current path! My guide dogs have taught me that when our physical, mental, and spiritual human needs are met, there is a fundamental shift in our hearts. It will take such a shift in our hearts for the world to find peace.
Takashi Tanemori is an artist, poet, public speaker, and author of the recently released memoir, Hiroshima: Bridge to Forgiveness. He lives in Berkeley with his beloved canine companion and guide dog, Yuki. Learn more about his work at www.takashitanemori.com.
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