I'm laying in my bed, awake, staring at the ceiling. The sun is up and peeking in my blinds. I want my book to focus my mind on something, but it's on the desk. I don't want to disturb the dogs by getting up and getting it.
To want. The implication of lacking or needing something outside the moment, that the moment is not perfect and to accidentally instill a cycle of dependency.
"I want to feel better."
"I want to be healed."
"I want that book."
"I want my mind to be still."
It is perfect, however, this moment. Everything is how and where it should be right now, right here, right in this moment.
I decide to meditate instead of want the book. I lay on my back and tuck the pillow under my knees slightly and place my hands at my sides and close my eyes.
Starting with the top of my head, I think: my mind is still, I am healed, I am healthy, I am open to all possibility, My mind is perfect in this moment. Then I notice my mind starts to wander. It wanders to the way my shaved hair feels under my hair. It notices its own wandering and mirrors that up against the word 'healthy'. It begins to dream imaginary things like my elderly neighbor in the back with the long white braid down her back shoveling dirt over my chain link fence in the notorious corner of my back yard. It is notorious because the ground has seemed to have eaten the fence line here and only two feet of the four foot fence peeks from the dirt, the only illuminated corner of the yard. My mind wanders to the imaginary need to clean the hall bathroom - which in reality was just completed during the past few days - but my eyes look down into the rings in the sink and bathtub. My awareness begins to come back to my body. I notice my forehead, face and nose are relaxed and my skin is cool.
My awareness drifts to my throat, neck, chin and mouth. I feel a lump in my throat. A lump that is becoming more and more familiar to me. I worry, then I think: I am healed, I am healthy, I am open to all possibility, My throat is perfect in this moment... I am healed, I am healthy, I am surrounded by love. My mind walks though its thoughts like a child at the edge of a forest with many paths. It sees the little bowl at the base of my throat where my clavicle meets each other. It feels my esophagus and communicates with the cells that they are loved and happy. It travels up my esophagus to my tongue and my mouth and my mouth remembers so many wonderful kisses. Kisses so luscious like taking big bites from over ripe peaches or nectarines, but so much better. Kisses like connection that embraces your whole self both in this world and in outer space - where your cells expand and contract and you become one with everything. Soft, lovely kisses.
My mind drifts down to my shoulders and collarbone, which I had broken just 19 months ago. My thoughts carry an apology to my collarbone which holds no screws and went under no surgery, but instead found its own way to reunite itself and still awkwardly yet discreetly protrudes upward slightly. My mind focuses it's thoughts: I am healed, I am healthy, I feel good and strong. I am healed. I am healthy. I am thankful.
My abdomen begins to call for attention and my mind drifts to the area around my stomach: I am healed, I am healthy. I feel the same knot in my stomach as I did in my throat. I am healed. My stomach is perfect in this moment. My stomach is healed, it is healthy. My mind wanders off to the conversation I had with my friend last night. I had said I needed to lose twenty pounds after returning from the ladies room at the bar. While I was in there, I squeezed all the fat on my waist. About two inches, I gleaned. Ten pounds per inch, I thought. I gained weight. All the beer probably. Man, I love good beer. I've been eating pretty well, however: lots of vegetables and smoked salmon and tofu. My lifestyle has changed. My body is transforming. My friend says, You do not need to lose twenty pounds! I need to lose ten pounds, so you do not need to lose twenty!
My mind becomes aware of my hips. I feel my mind say: I am healed, I am healthy, my hips are perfect in this moment, this moment is every moment, every moment is now, I am healed, I am healthy, I am present. My mind sees my body riding the bicycle and walking the dogs and jogging and streeeettttcccchhhhinnngggg these hips in yoga class. My mind searches the veins for rapid circulation and speeds it along. Then to soften the muscles in my legs and rear to allow opening, relaxation and good health. I remember the dance floor. I hear the blues grinding on the axe. I am shuffling around, twisting my hips. The lights are blue and purple. The music is good.
I go into darkness for a little while. I dream. I float. When I emerge, my awareness goes to my knees. I say: My knees are healthy, my knees are healed. I travel inside my skin under my patella and fluff the cartilage like a pillow. I press the circulation to bring oxygen and vitalization to my knees.
I feel my calves from my mind with a gentle scan. My legs are healed. My legs are healthy. I am thankful of my legs.
I scan my feet. I feel my arches and my joints and the pads of my feet. My feet are healed. My feet are healthy. My mind produces my lacrosse ball to roll around in my arches. Thumbs press my pads. Hands wrap around and squeeze these feet that carry me everywhere. There is no want. There is only this moment. This moment all the time. What am I doing in this moment? I reflect is what I need to ask to check in with myself. All the moments are connected, as I am connected to the moments.
It is many moments later.
Now that is in the past.
Now, I have my books here at the table with me and I am ready to read. The dogs are up. I have my coffee. My body which contains me feels good. Want is a choice and there is no want - only connected moments to pay close attention to.
I am sitting at the table outside listening to the birds as I type and the dogs are keeping a mighty eye out for squirrels in the single large oak tree that sits in the middle of the yard that is so large it shades me, shades the house and shades the whole yard - minus the one notorious illuminated corner.
Dixie and Earl.
Time to get up.
I lift my sore, stiff self out of bed and throw on my sarong so I can let the dog out hitting the coffee maker on the way to the door. He’s got this big ol’ noggin and fat feet and big ol’ smile - he just makes me happy in a warm, safe and cuddly kind of way. Sounds weird and is hard to explain so I’ll just stop with the sappy stuff now. Anyway, I let him out and the neighbor is out, he looks but when I call him he comes by me no issue. Usually it’s when he is on a leash he is more aggressive or threatening sounding with his guttural barks.
My friend Jim came to get me yesterday with his dog Akahana around lunchtime - we drove around, went to Whole Foods for lunch and shopping and finally came to pick up Sammy, my puppy. (Sammy, by the way, is a 60 pound, 3 years old pit bull mix.)
I told him Blackwell was closed last time I drove by, but we can try it. They must have widened the trail and taken out some brush. It looked good. It was Sammy’s first time there and I was a little nervous. I communicated with the only person who happened to be there as we approached since she had a German Shepard. Two big dogs who don’t know each other. A risk, I thought.
Now I had seen Sammy around Akahana, a 6 week old puppy, a group of dogs at the shelter, my friend’s pit bull and some randoms at Herrick Lake who were off leash during our run. He had always been well behaved. When we walk around the neighborhood and he is on leash, he seems like he is going to chomp you to bits sometimes. Again, there’s a metaphor or something here, but I’m still looking for it.
She said her dog was fine and hello and all that so we walked in. Sammy and Aka acknowledged the German Shepard briefly from a distance and then pretty much ignored him. After some sniffing around, the German Shepard approached - they all smelled each other and went about their business. It was totally anti-climactic.
We walked along the new trail and encountered other walkers. The dogs all peacefully did their thing. I tested Sammy a little asking him to come by me when I knew he was busy sniffing around. He paused and slowly made his way to me with such a begrudging look on his face like, ‘really, lady, I just got here. you gonna put me back on a leash, c’mon, ugh’. I gave him a great shake and hug and told him he was good and sent him back out to sniff and play and explore. He galloped off.
When we circled back around there was another pit mix who was slender with hefty haunches just like Sammy except a little smaller. His name was Toby. Toby immediately took to Sammy and they raced across the limestone end to end.
Love this dog. Cheers to a long, happy life full of dog parks and chasing toys and butt scratches and guttural funny noises as we roll around upside down scratching our backs on the carpet.
"A dog is the only thing on earth that loves you more than he loves himself." —Josh Billings
"Dogs are not our whole life, but they make our lives whole." —Roger Caras
“Dogs are wise. They crawl away into a quiet corner and lick their wounds and do not rejoin the world until they are whole once more.” —Agatha Christie
“The world would be a nicer place if everyone had the ability to love as unconditionally as a dog.” ―M.K. Clinton
“The better I get to know men, the more I find myself loving dogs.” —Charles de Gaulle
“The only creatures that are evolved enough to convey pure love are dogs and infants.” —Johnny Depp
“What counts is not necessarily the size of the dog in the fight; it's the size of the fight in the dog.” —Dwight D. Eisenhower
"Why does watching a dog be a dog fill one with happiness?" —Jonathan Safran Foer
“When an eighty-five pound mammal licks your tears away, then tries to sit on your lap, it's hard to feel sad.” ―Kristan Higgins
“There are times when even the best manager is like the little boy with the big dog — waiting to see where the dog wants to go so he can take him there.” —Lee Iacocca
"Anybody who doesn't know what soap tastes like never washed a dog." —Franklin P. Jones
“A dog can’t think that much about what he’s doing, he just does what feels right.” ―Barbara Kingsolver
"When the Man waked up he said, 'What is Wild Dog doing here?' And the Woman said, 'His name is not Wild Dog any more, but the First Friend, because he will be our friend for always and always and always.'" —Rudyard Kipling
“Once you have had a wonderful dog, a life without one, is a life diminished.” —Dean Koontz
"I care not for a man's religion whose dog and cat are not the better for it." —Abraham Lincoln
“Outside of a dog, a book is man's best friend. Inside of a dog it's too dark to read.” —Groucho Marx
“Dogs don't rationalize. They don't hold anything against a person. They don't see the outside of a human but the inside of a human.” —Cesar Millan
“Dogs never bite me. Just humans.” —Marilyn Monroe
"If you think dogs can't count, try putting three dog biscuits in your pocket and then give him only two of them." —Phil Pastoret
“I think dogs are the most amazing creatures; they give unconditional love. For me, they are the role model for being alive.” —Gilda Radner
"If there are no dogs in Heaven, then when I die I want to go where they went." —Will Rogers
"The average dog is a nicer person than the average person." —Andy Rooney
"I wonder if other dogs think poodles are members of a weird religious cult." —Rita Rudner
"Happiness is a warm puppy." —Charles M. Schulz
“If you eliminate smoking and gambling, you will be amazed to find that almost all an Englishman's (and a girl’s... says I...) pleasures can be, and mostly are, shared by his dog.” —George Bernard Shaw
"I've seen a look in dogs' eyes, a quickly vanishing look of amazed contempt, and I am convinced that basically dogs think humans are nuts." —John Steinbeck
"You think dogs will not be in heaven? I tell you, they will be there long before any of us." —Robert Louis Stevenson
reprinted from https://etherealbeings.wordpress.com/2015/06/24/dog-park/