1. Morning walks. I probably don’t need to add any “why” here, because the pictures are self-explanatory — amazing, beautiful, quiet, good company, and THE SKY! This week, we also saw “Big Red,” (that’s not his actual name, at least I don’t think so and I can’t get close enough to read his tag), one of my favorite neighborhood dogs and somehow Ringo likes him too. He’s a big cattle dog/pit mix (or something like that) with splashes of red and other tiny freckles of the same where he’s white, with a big blocky head, wrinkly face, and such a sweet temperament. Ringo can be a grumpy old man, especially with dogs that are bigger than him and those he considers too rowdy, but for some reason, he likes Big Red, and it makes me happy to see it.

2. Practice. Time to be quiet and still and at ease. To contemplate and comfort and confront.

These few words are enough
If not these words, this breath
If not this breath, this sitting here

This opening to the life
We have refused
Again and again
Until now
Until now

~David Whyte

3. Snow. It was only a few inches, coming down in those big fat fluffy flakes, and we really need so much more but I’ll take it.

4. Breakfast burritos. There are certain foods that are so complete and perfect and good. They make me happy, make me feel satisfied and nourished. Bread and potatoes and rice, all the things that health and fitness influencers would have us reject altogether, are so versatile and delicious. I’ll add to the list of complete, perfect, and good food: tacos and pizza. Oatmeal cookies are pretty amazing too.

5. My tiny family, small house, little life. I’m leaving for a short trip to Oregon next week. My brother’s birthday is coming up and when I thought about what to get him, I realized that giving him a short break from his role as our mom’s primary caretaker is the best “present” I could offer. AND, that means I’ll be there and my whole life will be here and I am going to miss it and them. Eric and I have spent more time apart this past six months than we have almost the entire 30 years that came before. I don’t love it. Luckily, the next trip I have planned to Oregon after that includes Eric and Ringo, and the beach.

Bonus joy: a warm shower, physical therapy, massage, getting in the pool, sitting in the sauna, the hydromassage chair, making each other laugh, friends that can hold space for both grief and joy, writing with my Friday morning sangha, a soft oversized hoodie, wool socks, down blankets and pillows and jackets, gummies, naps, watching TV, listening to podcasts, good books, being able to check out library books on my Kindle, libraries and librarians, poetry and poets, fingernail clippers, dental floss, watercolors, citrus, my dad’s grade school pictures, practicing yoga at Red Sage, being friends with a local surgeon so you can get a good recommendation when you need one, being able to schedule my hernia repair surgery while Eric is on Spring Break and between Oregon trips, those realizations I have just as I’m drifting off to sleep, hugs in the kitchen, laundry, groceries, that corner of the couch, twinkle lights, pictures from places where flowers are already blooming, reading in bed at night while Eric and Ringo sleep.

1. Morning walks. The sun is rising earlier, so I never have to worry now about missing the sunrise. Over 20+ years of dog walking in this part of Fort Collins, we’ve gone through so many different regular routes, have so many options. My current favorite is so because with how early we walk it, we hardly see anyone at all, other than critters. No dodging bikes or skateboards, no rerouting because someone has their dog offlead or it’s a dog I know Ringo doesn’t like, no need to deal with any sort of traffic, barely any need to watch out for anyone else on the trail because they just aren’t out yet. I definitely prefer “the road less traveled.” 

2. Taking care of myself. I’m not always so great at this, and having this hernia — a complication of the surgery I had in April 2023, probably happening the second trip I made to help take care of my dad in hospice, which also included my mom who was recovering from a stroke and needed to be lifted, supported, moved, and had a wheelchair that needed lifted in and out of the car every time we went anywhere — is reminding me just how important it is to attend to myself, to look after, care, honor, protect, nourish, soothe, and love little ol’ me.

Watching my parents become less and less able to take care of themselves also reminded me that I have to make an active effort to retain my strength, endurance, and mobility. It hit me the other day when I considered how my primary care physician didn’t insist a hernia repair was emergent or even necessary, but then told me I needed to stop HIIT training, core work, and to not lift anything heavy, and my immediate thought was, “but I want to lift heavy things!” The shift is rather than seeing caring for my physical body, honoring my emotional and spiritual needs, feeling my feelings, and watching my thoughts but not letting them “drive the bus,” as something I “should” do or that is demanded of me by external forces, it is something I do for myself, to give myself the best life, the most love.

3. Snow. It hasn’t been nearly enough, but at least there has been some.

4. Practice. I was especially grateful this week for the practice I got to do with others, both yoga at Red Sage and wild writing with my Friday morning sangha. They are such good people, both groups, and the practice is so good for me.

5. My tiny family, small house, little life. Ringo is being his usual annoying, goofy, loveable self (video evidence below), and Eric is just the best.

Bonus joy: eating out, clean sheets, flowers inside in winter, blue sky, sunshine, reading, watching TV, listening to podcasts, streaming content, books from the library for my Kindle, getting in the pool, sitting in the sauna, the hydromassage chair, a better price on a car rental, having taught long enough that I can trust myself to show up and know exactly what to do, texting with Chris and Mom and Chloe’, all the good links Shellie sends me, sharing reels and memes with Carrie and Kari, training with Shelby, naps, peanut butter, a crisp gala apple, celery, every kind of bread, citrus (if we could smell the sun, I think that’s exactly what it would smell like), tuna fish, not putting off what I could do right now, emotional intelligence, therapy (both physical and mental), music and musicians, poets and poetry, pottery, the Pacific Ocean, that no matter how things go in the future I was here to see it before it was gone, finding peace with impermanence, practicing being comfortable with discomfort, easing up on myself, seeing things more clearly, having such good support, a warm shower, curly hair, other people’s dogs and kids, stained glass, watercolor, reading in bed at night while Eric and Ringo sleep.