Category Archives: Sam

August Break: Day One

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If you’ve been reading my blog for long, you know how much I adore Susannah Conway. I am so inspired by her classes, her photography, and her writing, her way of being in the world, that I would follow her just about anywhere, take on any prompt or project she suggested.

susannah and I at her book event this summer in portland

Susannah is hosting August Break, as she’s done for the past two years, and I’m joining in. The goal is to share a picture on your blog every day of August. Other bloggers use this time to take a break from regular blogging, to look closer at their world through the camera lens as a way to be more present and relaxed, to sink into the joys of the month and savor the end of summer. I am having so much fun blogging right now, I’m not going to take a break from that, but rather add daily August Break posts, sharing with you, kind and gentle reader, “the view from here.”

The View from Here: August 1st

This is how I start every morning, at my writing desk in front of my HappyLight, window open so I can hear the birds sing once the sky gets light, with a 1/2 cup of coffee, Kashi Bar, and a banana that I’ll share later with Sam, the boy sleeping on the bed under my feet. This morning, I was a few minutes late, was in the kitchen talking to Eric, and Sam cam out to find me, let me know that he’d been waiting and I was now officially “late for work.”

I love getting up so early (most mornings), before the sun is even up, to sit in the mostly quiet and write. Sometimes what I write is total crap, a garbage dump of complaints, whining and moaning and bitching about dumb stuff, but more often it’s the bones of a blog post, or pages of a book or essay being born.

This picture shows close up what my view is like when I’m writing. The other day, I bought myself flowers to encourage myself to clean off my desk (it worked). I currently have a “thing” for owls, feel like along with dogs, they are the animal guides for my writing. The blue container holds some of Obi‘s ashes, and is next to Guanyin, also known as White Tara in Tibetan Buddhism, the goddess of mercy, compassion and action, (this particular one found at the Waldport Flea Market for one dollar, she holds a lotus blossom in her hands). At her feet are various rocks I’ve collected, one of which is roze quartz, the love stone.

Guanyin stands in front of a post card of Susannah’s and a picture I originally framed for my grandma (she’s since passed, so I have it again) which includes a bible verse about rejoicing and being glad in this day, and there is my World Domination Summit (WDS) temporary tattoo, my message from the universe by way of Andrea Scher, a take-way from Cynthia Morris‘s WDS workshop which reads “claim your AUTHORity now” and postcard from Patti Digh where she holds a rock that says “I dare you.” Behind that, where you almost can’t see it, is a jar of sand from Waldport Beach. There are other things you can’t see in this particular image, like the picture of Obi or the one of my nieces on the beach, or the piece of art from my first heART exchange swap partner. All of these things inspire me, remind me of my intention to write.

After I write, I turn on my computer and do a quick check of my email, facebook, and my blog. After that, I either walk the dogs or go to yoga. This morning, it was yoga, and this was the sky outside my gym. It’s getting light later already, so I got to see some of the sunrise before I went inside.

Day of Rest

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I have learned a lot from my dogs about rest and play. This is most likely because everything dogs ever do is either play or rest. Think about it.

Walking = Play
Eating = Play
Cuddling or Petting = Rest
Waiting = Rest
Training = Play
Work = Play
Riding in the Car = Rest or Play, it depends
Rest = Rest
Play = Play

Rest and play, play and rest, rinse and repeat. This is the entire life of a dog. They do not waste their time on things like thinking about the past or future. It is always now for a dog.

Dogs are utterly comfortable in their own skin and fur. They would never ask “does this collar make me look fat?” or turn down an extra treat because they feel bad about their thighs. They don’t pay someone to dye the white hair that’s developed as they’ve gotten older, they don’t have anything waxed or painted or sculpted (unless the stupid humans decide their ears should be a different shape), and they don’t cover anything up. In fact, they are happy to walk around basically naked, wearing the exact same thing every day with no concern for fashion.

Dexter of the gray hair, resting after playing.

They make due with what is, are perfectly and absolutely happy with it, whatever. A small rug or pile of dirty laundry or spot of dirt and grass can act as an awesome bed, a sock or empty water bottle or stick make great toys, and walking everywhere barefooted is the perfect mode of transportation. A tennis ball found left at the dog park or frisbee abandoned on the beach are the best thing e v e r. That walk that you’ve taken or food you’ve eaten twice a day every day of your life is cause for celebration, every time.

Dexter and Sam know how to play.

Dogs don’t have regrets or guilt or shame. They typically don’t worry about what someone will think about them or wonder if they are cool enough. If they feel any bad feelings, it’s only for a brief moment and then it’s over, and straight back to rest or play. They don’t dwell on things, obsess or agonize, think about how they wish they’d done better, judging and bullying and smashing themselves to bits.

Dogs are models of self-love and self-care, having a sense of the natural rhythm of a day, the best and right mix of play and rest. Even when it can be annoying to be working and have my dogs bugging me for attention or a play break or a walk, I have learned to trust their instincts, to take the break they request. They usually know better than I do that it’s time. They ask for what they want, are who they are, and I want to be more like them.

Sam telling me it’s time for a break.