When I walk my dogs and I’m present I remember I’ve always been happy, I’ve always enjoyed my life. It’s about remembering and putting ourselves where we remember.
I am running with them through February — it’s crisp and sunny. We’re in front of a house stylistically different than the others, a white, low ranch with a big grass yard. Two akitas stare at two huskies. Two dogs stare at two dogs. They all seem to like each other, and it feels peaceful to be part of.
Timber carries a bag of unopened oatmeal in his mouth like a momma carrying a puppy. A ground-score. There are so many on our littered streets. I feel complicated about where I live. It is home and it is not taken care of. The earth feels neglected here. It feels like tension here: people between people, people between earth. Yet, the brick is beautiful and the sun shines on us.
I walk taller and looser thanks to the yoga with Kelsey. I feel confident.
I come home and think briefly about my finances. I move on the mat. I admire cedar creations in the backyard. I think, “I gotta go write.”
4 things I did instead of despair
- raked dog dung off our yard and into a bucket
- let Noah tease and had fun with it
- dropped eucalyptus oil onto the shower’s edge
- blended banana, peanut butter, and dates
I still feel schadenfreude but I attach my identity to it less.
If it takes mentally affirming You’re a good girl, You’re a good girl, You’re a good girl… why not do it?
Whatever I want from others I can practice giving to myself. From this place of caring for myself, I can pour some out. Surround yourself with people who accept that.