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.