We found out our sweet boy Charlie may have epilepsy today, after he had a fit at the vets (I must commend his sense of timing and place). We’ll be keeping a close eye on him to see if there’s a pattern to his fits (or if he even has any more), or if he is experiencing fairly bad anxiety attacks (read: can’t walk, legs won’t work, back seizes up, glassy eyes).
He is quiet this afternoon, lying down in my studio.
I lay down next to him, and checked in with me.
I realised on some levels I was resisting him, thinking “he’s just a dog… don’t get attached… especially a dog that might have a problem…”
As though if I loved, it meant loss. And loss in love – is it worth it?
Yep, I felt all of that. I’m not going to judge it. This whole beautiful life and this beautiful dog love me so unconditionally they teach me those lessons.
I moved my head to be next to his, and I spoke to him:
My darling boy, no matter what, I’m going to love you.
It’s okay if you have epilepsy. It’s okay if there’s something happening in your body. It’s all okay… no matter what. No matter how long we have, I am blessed to know you. I am blessed to love you, even when that means we only have moments or years to experience each other.
And I thought how it kinda made sense to make this a mantra for love.
Health issues – they always make me radiantly aware of the shortness, the promise and the magnificence of this life. How lucky we are just to be here now, experiencing all of it. Even the stuck parts, the loss parts, the grieving and the awakening parts.
in love and light,
P.S. If your sweet fur~kid has epilepsy, please share your experiences…
To the most beautiful man in the world:
I’m so glad you were born.
That’s all, and that’s everything.
I want to write for the sake of writing.
I want to write for the sheer abandon of it, the falling into the moment, the sinking into myself of it. I want to fall apart and rupture clean and pin it, piece by piece, together with words. I want to remember why I write.
I remember why I write:
Because, simply, the world makes sense to me when I write.
There are some things that I know.
I know that it feels good to meditate, and sometimes when I sit in gentle breath upon my bed, I am called outside with an urgency. I pull on a jumper and sweatpants, then barefoot onto the grass to be closer to the heartbeat of mother earth. It feels like she wraps around me, and I ground in her energy.
No matter what.
It is all okay, it is all okay, it is all okay.
This is what she teaches me.
These are the days that sparkle with a new and precious Succulent Wild Woman watch from a dear friend. I enter rooms hand first, as proud as a five year old with a ballerina box that spins and sings once the lid is opened.
These are the days that I’m not sure where I’m going, or exactly what is happening, just that I know that it is good and ripe even in the chaos. Even in the pain, there is still peace. Even in the tears, there are lessons.
There is no compass available but my soul, and my soul tells me I am doing good. I may not know much about today, and I may not know much about tomorrow, but I do know change is birthing forth into our lives. I do know I will be okay no matter what. I do know I can do this I can be this I can create this dream life.
Inside me is where the world is created.
Immensely inspired by the glorious Jen Lemen today.
Watch this horse clip without crying… and you’re probably a lot less hormonal
than me at the moment!
With two hands, I offer you a Secret.
It’s freaking SNOWING here.
It’s November. It’s summer in two weeks.
And we just had a snow flurry.
Ding dang freaking miracle odd day!