1. Morning walks. They were a bit shorter and darker this week, but still my favorite time of day. I was delighted when I turned off my headlamp at one point and looked down and saw Ringo and I’s shadows cast by the light of the moon.

2. Ringo. For the first time in over a year, Ringo had a wonky belly this week. His troubles first started for him when he was only six months old and took until he was ten years old to fully sort out, an ongoing combination of allergies and sensitivities and dietary indiscretions. With the help of Dr. Kelly Gaffney and Dr. Bronwen Foster, we have finally gotten him to a place where he doesn’t have to deal with that every few months. We were surprised and sad that it happened again, but probably shouldn’t have expected it never would, and with the help and care of his “support team,” he’s feeling better. When something like that happens, it’s hilarious how happy it makes Eric and I when his appetite comes back and his poop is “normal” again and he feels better.

3. Vaccines. They save lives; that’s a fact. I got both my flu and COVID shots yesterday, in the same arm, at the same time. My only “side effects” today are a sore arm, but that happens with the flu shot every year. According to the paperwork, without our insurance coverage, it would have cost us $340! So, I’m grateful for health insurance too. I had to point to something from the list of specific high-risk conditions that make you eligible for the COVID shot, but it was clear that it was only a formality, something they were required to do, but also something they weren’t concerned about and not anything they confirmed or recorded anywhere, in fact I’m not sure if the person checking me in even looked at what I’d pointed at — they clearly want people to be able to get vaccinated if they choose. My friend and her little guy had COVID already last week, and apparently it is coming in early and hitting hard in our area, so I decided sooner rather than later was best. And I got rainbow bandaids! 

4. Sane minds and open hearts. I bet you’d agree with me, kind and gentle reader, that this week in the world has been rough, (and yes, also so many of the weeks and weeks and weeks and months and years and lifetimes that came before it). Being human is never easy, has never been, and for those of us trying to be good humans, seeking to ease suffering in ourselves and the world, this week took some extra effort. I hope that you have some sort of practice in your life that helps you hold on, community of whatever sort that supports you, and I’m grateful that you haven’t given up.

I was especially grateful this week for my yoga friends at Red Sage and my therapist and the women in my Friday morning writing sangha. One of the poems we used as a writing prompt on Friday morning was The Forgotten Corners by Jeff Foster, and it was such a good reminder for me, that even though the suffering in the world overwhelms me and I feel very small and helpless, it is worth staying and there is always something holy, even if it is only doing small things with love, in the life I already have.

Feed the cat.
Fold the towels.
Clean the lint from the dryer.
Say thank you for someone’s kindness.
And mean it.
This is the temple – Not on some distant mountaintop, but here,
in a messy kitchen, in a real apology, in a long exhale
when you’re stuck in morning traffic.
Enlightenment isn’t an escape.
It’s seeing, really seeing, what’s right in front of you.
It’s staying.
Even when it’s uncomfortable.
Even when it’s brutally mundane.
There’s holiness in every breath.
In doing the small things with love.
In the life you already have.

5. My tiny family, small house, little life. The main and best reasons I’m not giving up.

Bonus joy: sending another card to my mom (telling her about the weather and my boring days and how busy Eric is at work feels like the “before time” when we would email or text each other), crying when I feel sad, walking by Your Best Day Ever on Monday mornings to say “hi,” how it comforts Ringo when he’s at the vet to sit right next to me, how the tech who took him back to draw blood for some tests said when she came back that “I have never had a dog run so fast to get back to their person,” how something about being in the exam room with the low windows kept Ringo calmer while he was there and the little girl who came up to the window to say “hi” to him and how hard his tail wagged when she did, texting with Chloe’ and Chris, sharing memes and reels with Carrie and Kari and Shellie, my “Liked Songs” playlist on Spotify, good TV, tarot, making art, the spaghetti Eric made last night, plain bean and cheese burritos, Sunday morning Pilates, sitting in the backyard with Ringo, bees, naps, poets and poetry, comedy, true crime, listening to podcasts, libraries and librarians, other people’s dogs and kids and gardens, pie (it’s getting time for apple!), the last few Palisade peaches, roasted veggies, onion buns, a big glass of cold clean water, a warm shower, a big salad, book club, making each other laugh, reading in bed at night while Eric and Ringo sleep.

1. Morning walks. I’m excited for next week because I was looking on Google maps the other day and found two alternative routes at one of our favorite trails that I want to try, see where they go. It’s cooler and darker in the mornings now and I’m okay with that — for one, it means fewer people but more animals are out. And, while I may have to start the walk with a headlamp, we get to see the sun come up.

2. Practice. The past three Thursday mornings, people’s schedules were wonky, so I’ve been doing unplanned private yoga sessions at Red Sage, just one person each week but also a different person each week, and it’s been kind of fun. I adore teaching and practicing there. Zoom was being wonky, so sadly my writing sangha and I didn’t get to practice together Friday morning. Hopefully we get that figured out by next week because that practice session with those women is one of my favorite things. I’ve been meditating at random times this week. Rather than first thing in the morning each time, I’ve been sitting when the need hits me — and it has been on the regular because some sad anniversaries are coming up and a few friends are losing their dogs and the ability to sit with those big feelings is such a gift. Yoga, writing, and meditation keep me sane.

3. Fall. Yes, there are sad anniversaries, but other than that, this is my favorite season in Colorado. The way nature invites us to slow down and let go, how things start to turn towards quiet and stillness, how everything turns golden.

4. Mom. She for certain is slowing down some, becoming quieter, but she’s still here and still remembers us. I’m so grateful for the continued care and company she is getting. I posted this on my social media last week:

A phone call with my mom this weekend: She has late stage vascular dementia, so I wait until my brother is there visiting, call his phone, which he hands to Mom as he explains to her how to hold it and listen and who it is on the other end. She tried once, but her first question for me was a struggle to find the words, “Are you…are you…are you taking…a break?” which I know to mean “Are you at work?” which is something she always asks me even though I’m now mostly retired because it’s what she can remember of previous conversations with me. Frustrated by not being able to find the words, we said goodbye and I love you and she handed the phone back to my brother. Then in a few minutes, she asked to have the phone back.

On her second try, she began with “It’s hard to talk to you right now because I’m trying to eat,” but as my brother pointed out, she didn’t have anything in front of her to eat, there was no dinner plate or even a small bag of chips. After she said that, it started to pour down rain at my house, so I told her, and she said, “You can keep it!” which is what she’s always said to me about our weather, whether it’s hot or snowing or storming. Then she said, “I’m going to hand this back to Dad,” which meant my brother, and with another goodbye and I love you, I was talking to him and not my dad, who has been gone for two years now.

We got off his phone a few minutes later and in another few minutes, my brother texted, “I know this might make you sad, but she just picked up the TV remote and said to it, ‘Hey, can you hear me?'” ❤️💔

5. My tiny family, small house, little life. My favorite, my favorite, my favorite.

Bonus joy: peaches and corn and watermelon and tomatoes — the last of the season, texting with Chris and Chloe’, stickers, clean sheets, a warm shower, grapefruit Bubly, when King Soopers sends customized coupons based on things I regularly buy (I know the “Big Brother” aspect of that is creepy, but also thanks for the discounts on stuff I was probably gonna buy anyway!), ordering pizza, all the laundry done and put away, tarot, sitting with Eric and Ringo in the backyard, how green our yard is right now, the opportunity to start over as many times as necessary, other people’s dogs and kids and gardens, good TV, listening to podcasts, getting books from the library for my Kindle, the glitter I keep finding everywhere, comedy, true crime, documentaries, good music, naps, fry sauce, reading in bed at night while Eric and Ringo sleep.