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. ❤

1. Practice. I had a really hard week, and some of the things that saved me were a guided meditation to ease anxiety, teaching my yoga class at Red Sage, and writing with my Friday morning sangha.

2. Morning rest in the blue light with the blue dog. There were no morning walks because Ringo has been struggling with some pain in his back end, and we’ve been resting him and working with his “team” to get it sorted.

3. Sometimes comfort is a loaf of cinnamon swirl bread from The Bread Chic. Sometimes, it is an emergency therapy session. Sometimes it is a nap. Sometimes it is a good cry. Sometimes it is a poem. Sometimes it is a warm shower. Sometimes it is a hug in the kitchen. Sometimes it is a slow drive around the cemetery with all the windows rolled down. Sometimes it is texting with Chloe’ and Chris, without even telling them you are struggling. Sometimes it’s a massage with Dana where you tell her exactly all the ways you are struggling. Sometimes it is watching part of a movie. Sometimes it is listening to a podcast or some Teddy Swims loud in the car with all the windows rolled down even if it means you have to turn on the heat. Sometimes it is drinking a can of grapefruit Bubly sparkling water. Sometimes it is canceled plans. Sometimes it is not finishing the book you are reading and starting another. Sometimes it is sending what feels like the perfect gift through snail mail. Sometimes it’s butter or cheese or something salty. Sometimes it’s your dog’s vet seeing that you are worried and saying something, and then telling you, “I’ll take care of him like he’s my own dog, without all the crying” and knowing for sure she’s telling you the truth. Sometimes it’s making a joke and other times it’s keeping quiet. I’m grateful for all the forms it takes.

4. Lounging in the sun in the backyard with your dog. Am I aware that all the sun and warmth we’ve had this winter is bad news, that it’s going to lead to dry ground and increased fire danger and too much heat this summer? Yup. Do I know that it is a sign of the climate crisis, soon to be apocalypse? Yes, absolutely. Would I rather have colder temperatures and lots of snow? For sure. Did I allow myself to enjoy it anyway. Yes, yes I did.

5. My tiny family, small house, little life. Like I said, this week and honestly the week before it were so hard, but still, there’s no one I’d rather do it with, no one I’d rather do my life with, including all the hard parts.

Bonus joy: Annie’s mac & cheese, burritos, toast, pay day, a big glass of cold clean water, Ringo out in the backyard barking, Ringo’s “team” of doctors, getting in the pool, sitting in the sauna, chatting with Sally, citrus, pickled red onions, texts from Monica and Cynthia and Jessamy, the things I brought home from Mom’s that I see and use at my house now, a hot cup of coffee and warm mug of tea, finding tiny pockets of calm, tiny brass animals — the ones I’ve kept and the ones I’ve given away, online shopping, listening to comedy albums at night with Eric instead of watching TV (not that I have anything against watching TV), video shorts on YouTube, tortilla chips, plantain chips, how I always feel better after doing yoga, that tiny corgi walking by our house as I was leaving today who I said “hi” to and how happy it made her person, other people’s kids and pets, Ringo’s appetite, the riot of bird song in the backyard, to be known and loved anyway, making each other laugh, ice cubes, naps, libraries and librarians, poetry and poets, comedy and comedians, music and musicians, stickers, blank notebooks and pens with refillable ink, downloading books from the library onto my Kindle, reading in bed at night while Eric and Ringo sleep.