Family

Grief Is the Price We Pay For Love*

October 30, 2015



 “Until one has loved an animal, a part of one’s soul remains unawakened.”
—Anatole France

I have sad news to share today.  We lost our little dog, Scout, last Saturday, and we are deep in sorrow. She was 16 ½ years old. I apologize to those of you I know personally if I haven’t shared this news with you directly. It’s because I haven’t been able to face talking about it with you—I cry every time I have to share the news. 

The past six months have been difficult. Scout was deaf; almost blind from cataracts; suffered from terrible nasal allergies that made her sneeze, wheeze and cough; and she had “doggy dementia.” She rarely made it through a night without getting up to relieve herself, and afterward she often wandered through the house, getting stuck behind toilets, doors, and pieces of furniture. She occasionally got lost in the backyard she patrolled for so many years and had to be rescued. She required medicating several times a day and became agitated if her routine was disturbed. At the same time, she ate well, bounced around the house a little every day, and there was life in her eyes. We knew her days were numbered and tried hard to make them comfortable and happy. She deserved it.

Scout's the one licking his face
Scout came home with us as an eight-week-old puppy after “choosing” Nick (we’d intended to bring home a different puppy from the litter, but she followed him around and he fell in love with her). The two of them were best buddies from day one. Once she was house trained, she slept in his bed with him at night. They dug holes together and swam in the pool, and she joined in any game in which he was participating. She knew several tricks, including sit, shake hands, roll over and play dead—dropping onto her side if you pointed your index finger at her and said, “Bang!”—though sometimes you had to “shoot” her several times. She caught and killed plenty of squirrels and snakes, including more than one coral snake. (In a way, we were surprised she didn’t meet an untimely end since she was a typical Jack Russell Terrier—a tough little dog with a big dog’s attitude.) She received Christmas presents and birthday parties, just like the member of the family she was. The last few years of her life, she finally slowed down and preferred snoozing in her own dog bed to sleeping with a human, and spent more of her daylight hours sleeping than playing.


We are each coping in our own ways. The guys are able to leave the house to go to work every day, while I struggle with looking for her and not seeing her, with cleaning up her nose prints on the window, washing her dog bed, and disposing of all her supplements and medications. Yesterday I thought I heard her sneeze in the next room and realized it was just my imagination. I know that life will eventually feel beautiful again and that Scout’s memory won’t hurt anymore. Right now, though, thinking of her is equal parts love and pain.


Scout was a happy dog through her whole life, and she brought countless hours of happiness to our family. We were lucky to have each other, and we’ll never, ever forget her.

*Queen Elizabeth II

Grief

The Garden of Compassion

October 28, 2015



“Grief can be the garden of compassion. If you keep your heart open through everything, your pain can become your greatest ally in your life’s search for love and wisdom.”
—Rumi

Big Magic

If It's Friday, It Must Be Time for Link Love

October 23, 2015


Happy Friday to you—I hope you’re enjoying some lovely fall weather wherever you are. After a few days of cool-ish weather, we’re back in the high 80s with humidity. It’s time for me to bathe and clip Tank before he melts into a puddle. Here are a few happy links for you to explore while I cope with my hairy beast. 

For those of us who move forward best by taking baby steps: “5 Ways to Create a Life You Love Without Making a Major Change.” Also remember this: “It’s okay to live—and love—the life you have.” Sometimes we forget to appreciate what we already have.

The world is full of good things. Here are 99 of them.

“The Magic of Going Slow” has so much in it that resonates with me right now. For instance, “Nothing truly great has ever come out of stress” and “Always choose the path that feels right and kind in the moment. Happiness first, awareness first. Then decision and action.” 

Most of us (all of us?) have an inner critic who gives us trouble. Check out “Five Ways to Silence Your Inner Critic” for ways to boost your confidence. (I wrote a similar piece: “Shut Up, Inner Critic.”

Every now and then, it’s helpful to check in with ourselves to see if we’re living in a fashion that supports and feeds our bodies, minds, and spirits. Sandra Pawula’s “9 Questions to Liberate the Real You,” can help you evaluate how you’re doing. 

The marvelous Elizabeth Gilbert has a new book out, Big Magic: Creative Living Beyond Fear. Her interview with Marie Forleo is worth a watch (caution: some adult language):




And just in case you can’t wait another minute to read something I wrote, here’s your chance: “Driving I-5 in the USA,” my entry for the wesaidgotravel.com writing contest.

Back to the Future

Great Scott! It's Back to the Future Day

October 21, 2015

That’s right—today (Wednesday, Oct. 21, 2015) is the day Marty McFly time-traveled to in the second of the Back to the Future movies, the imaginatively named Back to the Future II.


While we’re not zipping around on hoverboards or in flying cars, we do have a few of the futuristic (in 1989) tech advances mentioned in the movie, including video calls and fingerprint technology. And as of this writing, the Cubs are still in the playoffs. Barely.

The Back to the Future movies were great fun when they came out—and they might just warrant a rewatch, especially since we are now “living in the future.”

That’s heavy.

If you enjoyed the Back to the Future movies, which was your favorite?

Attitudes

Banishing the B Word

October 19, 2015


Would you describe yourself as busy? Most of us do—and most of us are. Most of us have considerably more to do than we have time for, at work, at home, and even in our leisure hours. That’s the way our culture has been set up, and it’s become a common way for us to think about ourselves. And even though we sometimes complain about being too busy, secretly we’re often just a little proud of how in demand we are. Busyness is often something we’ve chosen.

Why do we like being busy? Busy feels important. Being busy excuses us from things outside our comfort zones, or things we don’t want to do (“Oh, I’m so busy, I just don’t have time for…”). Busy keeps us from thinking too deeply about our lives and whether or not we’re happy.

I’ve decided I don’t like being busy. Busy makes me feel rushed and out of control, two feelings I hate. Busy makes me feel stressed and inadequate. When I tell myself I have a busy day ahead, I rush through it, trying to get everything on my to-do list done, when really what I should do is take a careful look at everything on the list, and winnow it down into something manageable. This might mean organizing errands into an efficient order, putting something off to another day, or even skipping it altogether (newsflash: nobody came to arrest me when I didn’t put up the fall decorations this year).

My upcoming week is a good example. In addition to all the things I already do, I have a hair cut, an appointment with a saddle fitter, and an evening out with a friend scheduled. I’ve also got several errands to do that I’ve already put off at least once, including buying office supplies, making a deposit, and going to the library to pick up and drop off books.

The reality is I can handle all this in a state of harassment, feeling overwhelmed and “busy,” or I can change my attitude, plan my days carefully, and stay in the moment instead of looking too far ahead. I can simplify in other areas by planning less complicated meals or skipping certain household chores, and I can build in buffer time to recover. Most important of all, I can simply refuse to rush. If it turns out that everything on my list simply can’t get done, I’m going to jettison the least important thing(s) and not worry about it. (But that haircut is definitely happening!)

In addition to changing my attitude towards what I do, I’m also experimenting with the following ways to banish the feeling of busy:
  • Making time for idleness. That means doing nothing. Not reading, not watching TV or web surfing. Even just for a few minutes a day. Tim Kreider writes in “The Busy Trap”: “Idleness is not just a vacation, an indulgence or a vice; it is as indispensable to the brain as vitamin D is to the body, and deprived of it we suffer a mental affliction as disfiguring as rickets.”
  • Not allowing work to bleed into leisure time. I find this especially hard since I work and play at home. What I’m trying is setting certain hours where I will only do leisure activities, whether it be reading, sketching, watching something on TV, etc. I won’t try to fold laundry, read emails, brainstorm article ideas, or clean the kitchen at the same time.
  • Choosing my top three most important tasks and making sure they get done. Then the rest of the day is cake. (And if I finish early, instead of adding more work to my list, why not add more play? I should reward myself for my efficiency!)
  • Becoming more mindful of what makes it on to my to-do list in the first place.

So what am I going to replace busy with? Some terms I’ve heard others use to describe their lives include diverse, focused, rich, multi-layered, and full. These words have a much different feel than busy. I think I like full the best. A full life makes me feel happy.

At this time of year especially, we seem to gear up and become whirling dervishes of action, filling our days with activity and busyness in the face of the oncoming holidays. Instead of taking on more and more, why not take at least one thing off the to-do list today? How does that feel?