1. The Central Oregon Coast. It really is one of my favorite places on the planet, even though I don’t think it’s somewhere I’d ever be able to live all four seasons. I’ve come to realize over the years that the longer I go without seeing the ocean, this particular stretch of coastline, the more brittle I become. I NEED that force, that connection, that return in order to keep going without breaking. The food, the landscape, the light, the sound, the smell, the wildlife, the water and the woods — all of it is essential for me.

Ringo didn’t feel great on this trip. So, there was a lot of napping and resting that he needed, just like we did. He also spent a lot of time looking out at the water just like us. That said, he’s actually a pretty great dog to travel with.

2. Veterinary care. As I mentioned, Ringo didn’t feel good on this trip. In fact, just a few days before we left, we had to drive 1.5 hours to the nearest emergency hospital because he had another bought of hemorrhagic gastroenteritis, and we knew we couldn’t wait to treat it, didn’t want him to crash during the three days we were driving towards home.

Once back home, I took him to see his regular vet, who is SO good and loves him SO much, (she has cattle dogs of her own). She helped us to rule out a few more things (bloodwork shows a Vitamin D deficiency) and gave us a recommendation for another vet to consult.

Dr. Foster specializes in acupuncture and nutritional support, a mix of Eastern and Western wisdom approaches. With her help, we are healing Ringo’s wonky belly and treating his arthritis and anxiety. I feel hopeful about his health for the first time in a long time and I’m so grateful, to her and Ringo’s whole team, which also includes Red Sage Vets.

3. Reading. I brought a big box of books over from my mom’s house, as she no longer reads and wanted to clear out her bookshelves. Since I was off social media, I read A LOT, and was able to leave some books behind. I’m starting to think I’m either really lucky when choosing or am easily pleased, because it seems like 95% of the books I read are SO good!

4. Good food. We discovered a new favorite in Waldport, the Fishmongers Food Truck, and we also ate at some old favorites, like Mo’s and LeRoy’s Blue Whale (the BEST pancakes) and of course Depoe Baykery. I also realized while I was there that when I am stressed out and don’t know what else to do, I cook and feed people. I made three cakes, three batches of cookies, two baked zitis, chicken noodle soup and biscuits.

5. Home. Both of them, Colorado and Oregon. This time visiting Oregon came with its own struggles, its own tenderness. A big thing is it seems pretty clear my mom has developed vascular dementia due to her stroke, and will eventually, maybe sooner rather than later, need more care than we can provide her at home. I haven’t really been able to process my dad’s final days and the fact that he’s gone because the focus had to shift directly to helping Mom and now to accepting that she’s not going to get better, and it is a lot. Sometimes it feels like too much.

6. My tiny family, small house, little life. I was so happy to have some peonies left when we got back, to walk the routes we’ve done hundreds of times, to sleep in my own bed, to be in Carrie and Chloe’s orbit again. All of it is precious to me. I know I’ve shared this quote from Jeff Foster many times, but it is so true. 

You will lose everything. Your money, your power, your fame, your success, perhaps even your memories. Your looks will go. Loved ones will die. Your body will fall apart. Everything that seems permanent is impermanent and will be smashed. Experience will gradually, or not so gradually, strip away everything that it can strip away. Waking up means facing this reality with open eyes and no longer turning away.

But right now, we stand on sacred and holy ground, for that which will be lost has not yet been lost, and realising this is the key to unspeakable joy. Whoever or whatever is in your life right now has not yet been taken away from you. This may sound trivial, obvious, like nothing, but really it is the key to everything, the why and how and wherefore of existence. Impermanence has already rendered everything and everyone around you so deeply holy and significant and worthy of your heartbreaking gratitude.

Loss has already transfigured your life into an altar.