1. Morning walks. They were shorter but we got to take them this week, and it made me so happy. There was only one morning we only went around the block, but that was because it was snowing (yay!) and it was the kind that spring brings, heavy and wet.
2. Ringo’s “care team.” In particular, Dr. Gaffney at Mulnix Animal Clinic, Dr. Foster at Animal Elevation, and Dr. Rychel and Teri at Red Sage Integrative Veterinary Partners. The past couple of weeks have been rough and having them available, so smart and caring, has been so good. Ringo has arthritis, this is nothing new, but there is a spot on his back that has been particularly uncomfortable and a bit of a mystery the past few weeks, but we are hoping we’ve got it properly located, identified, figured out, and our plan will bring us all some relief. Let’s not talk about how much money has been spent — too bad “working breed” doesn’t mean they have a job and get paid for it.
3. Two of my favorite boys share a birthday. They turned five this week. Happy Birthday!!!!!
4. Practice. Thursday morning yoga and Friday morning wild-ish writing along with the tender big hearted humans who practice with me kept me alive this week.
5. My tiny family, small house, little life. Like I said, the past few weeks have been tough, but no matter how hard things get, there’s nowhere I’d rather be, no one (two) I’d rather be there with. No matter what happens, we’ll just keep trying, keep taking care of each other the best we can.
Bonus joy: Olly stress gummies, strawberries and raspberries, cinnamon swirl bread from The Bread Chic, good TV, listening to podcasts, comedy and comedians, getting the laundry done, poetry and poets, lowering the bar, eating whatever sounds good regardless of its nutritional value because sometimes you just need to eat something, crying, a hot cup of coffee and warm mug of tea, massage, getting in the pool and the sauna (they are going to be closed for about two weeks for repairs, *sob*), libraries and librarians, a warm shower, clean sheets, down blankets and pillows, staying in bed in the morning even though you are awake because it’s just so cozy, giving away things that are precious to people who are the same, hugs, birds, other people’s pets, Eric coming back to tell me Ringo had moved to that spot on Sam’s couch where the sun hits this time of the morning and the deep sigh he did when he laid down, this poem Michelle shared yesterday and in particular this line: “a wild place, toothed and flowering,” reading in bed at night while Eric and Ringo sleep, and these two pictures, one of my aunt Monica at her husband Bruce’s celebration of life service holding baby Hallie for the first time and another of the way the light hits the glass in my front door some mornings and reflects onto the wall.
P. S. Kind and gentle reader, I feel this week in particular that I want to honor how hard, how much effort it can take sometimes to be grateful. We can be so desperate to grasp at some sort of comfort, we say dumb things like “it could be worse” to try and cheer ourselves up. The world is heavy and even our domesticity, as the poet above says, can be “unnavigable, and not for the tenderhearted.” In these moments, all I can do is remind myself what Jeff Foster said, “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,” and keep making this list every week, keep saying “thank you.” If you are finding it hard to be grateful, to keep going, I see you, and I’m right there with you. Stay tender. Keep your heart open. Don’t give up. And thank you, thank you for still being here. ❤
Open Space Practice, (AKA: A Thousand Shades of Gray) 
Do the Olly stress gummies work well? Do they cause sleepiness?
They helped. I didn’t feel anymore sleepy than I already felt. I actually got three different ones to try: those, WonderCalm Mushroom Gummies, and OLLY Ultra Strength Goodbye Stress Softgels (I haven’t tried either of those yet). The one disappointing thing is it seems (this isn’t clearly stated anywhere but it’s the vibe I’m getting from people’s reviews) none of them are intended to function as a daily supplement, for various reasons: you can develop a tolerance and they stop working, they can cause things like increased anxiety or insomnia and gastric upset with regular use, and when you read the suggested dosage it also seems like they are only recommended “as needed.” I’m just trying to keep from needing to go back on my meds I just weaned off of, but I picked a terrible time to make the attempt, so trying anything to make it through what hopefully is a temporarily extra stressful time.
I understand. I wish I could wean off my Prozac, but I’m afraid to try. My anxiety is too bad.
This is exactly what I’m navigating, Melanie. Sure, I weaned myself off, but I’m not sure I’m going to be able to stay off. I’m trying right now because I was experiencing what my therapist called “a perfect storm” of triggers, but I’m still not sure it’s workable even once the external triggers “calm down” (as if they ever do!).
Oh, Ringo, I’m sending him so much love. Why do dogs have to age?
I love that Meister Eckhart quote.
Thank you for the Jeff Foster link. I remember when my dad was dying and going through chemotherapy—I felt so helpless, already grieving him. That was when I first learned how to truly practice living in each day, because that’s all I had.
Why do they have to age so much faster than we do? Seriously though, it’s clear that I’m in a phase of learning what death looks like when it comes slow, when it lingers just outside the door, when the intent and ultimate end is clear but the timeline is a total mystery. I’m realizing every other death I’ve held space for had a very distinct expiration date, a prognosis, but with my mom and Ringo (not that he’s actively dying but at 12+ years old for a dog type whose life span is typically 12-15 years, he’s in the range of it being a possibility any time something happens with his health), there’s just no way of knowing how close, how soon, and yet its shadow is right there, I can see it out of the corner of my eye all the time, and I’m having to learn to keep living, to keep going regardless. AND all that on top of realizing that the grief of the past six years came hard and fast, without any real chance to process it and I’m still carrying the weight of that, trying to figure out how to “do” that grief at the same time. *sigh*
YES. All of this. Anticipatory grief is exhausting. And it is stressful too. I don’t think there is enough talk about it because it feels like society tells us we shouldn’t be doing it. But I can’t NOT do it.
AND, the other thing is how we frame the decade of 50 for women as some sort of “golden era” where we are suddenly free and powerful, etc., whereas my 50s have left me feeling broken and bereft, have included some of the biggest challenges of my entire life, leaving me feeling lost, a kind “freedom” that came not from claiming it but rather losing so much, experiencing so much grief and having to face so much conflict, losing so much that I am liberated in a way, but in the way you are when you lose everything not when you claim it…if that makes any sense.