Snack

We took a short visit to our alma mater last weekend. During a walk near the golf course on a rainy afternoon, a fox trotted happily by with its mouth full of a snack.  For one shining moment, Nature was right there: the dark clouds, the big sparse raindrops, the lush green of the plants, the glossy fur of the fox, the shiny brown of the rodent it was carrying (thank you for your contribution to the Circle of Life, Rodent), and the silence except for the rustle of the leaves and the gathering breeze. 

Lovely. 

Tiki

 Sometimes, we all need a happy story. 

Like millions of other people, I've been following the progress of Tiki, a very shut down rescue pup, through the posts of his foster mom on TikTok.  The two of them were recently featured in People magazine. It's a lovely story, with one of the few happy endings in the news right now: behold, a  traumatized, sad little dog heals through the careful ministrations and gentle love of the right human being.  

We are cheering for his every success: coming out of his crate; his first pat; his first sit on the sofa; his attempts to go outside; his efforts to learn to tolerate people; his lessons in how to Dog from his foster dog brother; and more. Every little act, every little bravery, is a miracle, a healing step for him and for us. For it is proof that even when things are at the most terrible, we may still be able to find comfort and a few molecules of happiness ahead. 

Imagine the kind of love which Tiki has now found: free of anything Awful from the past, fresh and new. To be left alone when needed, to be encouraged gently, to be spoken to softly, to be cheered on for all the small successes. To feel Safe. To know that everyone is rooting for you to be Happy. To be able to enjoy all the small things in Life once more. Everything made more poignant for having experienced the Bad -- but with the Bad being no more than a far-away shadow. 

Amen, Tiki. May all your future days be bright. 

Eleven, and a Few

 Herself speaks.

It's been eleven years (plus a few days) since the Unmooring. I saw the anniversary of the day approaching, felt its presence creeping ever closer -- and yet, I did not dwell on it. It washed over me and moved past, like a comet in the night sky, silently moving in its annual orbit. I continued my work, and my Work, knowing that it will be back in another year.  Like solstice or equinox, rainstorms or blowing winds, it's just another fixture in the passing of the seasons. 

I have reached a point where the appearance of the Unmooring no longer carries with it that grief which once brought me to my knees.  I have been changed. I cannot go back. The sorrow is etched and the scars remain, but I can no longer choose to reopen the wounds. To tend to myself, I must let all the feelings of the Unmooring drift away.

One step at a time, on I go. 

Got An Eye On You

Biiiiiiig Stretch

Balance

Comfortable

Last weekend, we spent some time with my lovely Mother-in-law and various other extended family members, including a Fine Fur Friend.  I do miss having a dog. It is really nice to see a bit of canine relaxation amongst the flowers in the yard, or toasting in the sun. 

We should all be so comfortable. 

The Tough Get Going

 I've reached the when the going gets tough, the tough get going point of things.

There's a lot going on: some projects coming to a close, other projects gearing up; regular work; supporting (significantly) someone close to me through some Difficult Times; mundane Daily Activities; and my own Stuff. 

I got to the point earlier this week when I started rehearsing in my head, possible requests to my Important People, about needing more support -- a few more casual conversations that don't involve people Needing Things from me, a bit more facilitating of all the little things I do not have time for, or even just the asking, "How are you doing?"  Because no one actually asks. Ever. People assume I am Fine and Capable and Handling All The Things. 

I am indeed Capable and Handling All The Things. Fine, though, is a relative word. 

I'm moving forward. I'm doing the mental work. I'm taking care of myself as best I can (it might not be optimal care, but it really is the best I can do). 

I want to ask people for more. To care a little bit more. To take interest in my existence more. To walk my path with me a more. 

But then I viscerally reject that desire, and back further up into myself, ask even less, talk even less.  Nothing is worse than wanting more, asking for more -- for to ask for more is to show vulnerability. Asking is no guarantee, and in fact may yield less, when others see my neediness and walk away. People do not want to get involved, to commit to the burden of supporting another person.  So I will avoid rejection, avoid criticism, avoid knowing that I am not worth the effort of others, by moving forward by myself. 

The going's a bit tough at the moment. But I have packed up my feelings for now -- there will be time to feel them later -- and am getting going. 

One step at a time.