Dealing With It

I love the local people here; they just get on with getting on. Last night an intense windstorm was predicated on coming through our area. Our neighbors secured items in their yards, closed their shutters, and then sat outside to wait for the storm.

Beloved also went to secure items in the yard, but his approach was different. He tried to secure everything down to the ground. He closed and latched the shutters; he swept around the house so no debris would hit it. Then he came in to hunker down and wait out the storm.

We could hear our neighbors chatting casually outside as the winds picked up. Beloved was moving furniture into the center of the rooms, just in case, as he put it. Our neighbors were just starting to get into their houses.

The winds picked up and became the only thing we could hear. It lasted for hours.

In the early, pale light of dawn, we stepped out to see the damage. A few trees were no longer upright, a few roof tiles were missing, and some shutters were hanging at odd angles, but our neighborhood seemed to be okay overall.

Our neighbors calmly opened their shutters, removed the stakes and such from the ground, and went on about their days. Before he could do that same thing, Beloved had to also move the furniture back into place in the house.

Simple They Said

A simple boat ride, nothing too hard, just a gentle little paddle on the slow-moving water seemed to be just the thing for us. The locals assured us this body of water would be perfect for that. One of them said we didn’t even need life jackets, but we took them anyway.

Four-feet settled into the middle of the canoe comfortably. Granted, she found the packs we placed in the middle and claimed them as hers.

Beloved, for a man born on an island, is not a man of water. He opted to get into the canoe right after four-feet so he could find his space to settle. I was last, and I gave the boat a bit of a push before I got in.

We paddled peacefully for a bit, Beloved finally getting the strokes right so we weren’t doing complete circles all the time. Four-feet had closed her eyes, and before we reached the first bend, she was snoring.

The gentle paddle, a nice little ride, as the locals put it, stopped being that after the second bend. Rocks, white water, and noisy water greeted our pounding hearts.

Beloved waited for me to turn the canoe around before he started paddling like a man on a mission—a mission to get back to safer water, that is!

Four-feet slept through it all, waking up when we got back to where we started. Beloved got back on solid ground and declared it to be the most adventure he wanted for a while. It may take me a bit to determine how I understand the word simple versus the locals! Maybe next time, I will leave Beloved and four-feet behind while I explore simple!

The Easy Rest Of The Believer

A lion on a string rested against the overturned pillow. A flattened beaver dangled precariously over the arm of a chair. A blue bear was taking a lazy swim in the collapsible water bowl. And the four-footed one was resting on her cloth, not a care in the world to all the chaos she created.

I want to have that level of comfort in my life too. I want to know that if I create that kind of chaos, or make that big of a mess in life, I want to be able to rest easy from it just like she does.

I want the type of trust and faith in life that she has. She trusts that the blue bear will be removed when he’s had enough of his swim. She has faith that the beaver won’t plummet from heights and end up with a damaged squeaker in his head. She has faith that the lion won’t get tangled in the string or get upset about things.

She just knows, somehow, that things will be okay in her world and she can rest easy. That type of rest is priceless. Of course, making that type of mess is priceless too.

Naturally Waiting

I’ve spent my share of time sitting and waiting.  I’ve waited on cold, hard benches in hospitals and schools.  I’ve waited in hard plastic chairs in hospitals, schools, motor vehicle offices, and libraries.  Sometimes I’ve waited in soft and comfortable chairs.  Usually if they let you wait in a soft and comfortable chair it is not going to be for good news.  As if the chair will soften the blow of bad news.

Of course I’ve waited standing up and resting too.  Sometimes it feels like a lot of my life is just spent waiting.  Waiting for something to happen, waiting for results, waiting on news, waiting for packed, and so on.  We all wait.  It is a fact of life.  What we wait for, or how long we wait depends upon the circumstances, but regardless we all wait.

And here I am waiting again.  This time I’ve left the hard chairs behind to sit out on the ground and let the breeze join me in my wait.  Where I wait doesn’t matter.  The news isn’t for me this time.  It is Beloved’s news.  And once he gets it, in his own time he will share it with me.  So today I wait outside, letting the breeze soothe the rawness of potentially bad news.  I wait in nature, feeling for once a bit more calm in waiting than usual.  Perhaps I should do this more often when I wait, but time will tell if this really happens.

For now I will wait out in the wind and hope that the news is good.  Hope that we aren’t heading into another battle with cancer.  But if it is, we will fight it, which means we will be waiting a lot.  Waiting for treatment, tests, results and everything else.

Spa Wonderful

The four-footed one went to the spa today.  A new spa at that.  She seemed to enjoy her day and according ton the lady who greeted me there were no issues.  Which is a huge relief because the last time at the groomers had the four-footed one anything but calm or relaxed.

But she looked like she didn’t mind her day at all.  She got a nice bath, a new style, a pedicure (well her nails trimmed) and some treats.  So from her point of view I guess the trade-off was worth it.  She wasn’t even in a hurry to come and see me when I showed up to pick her up. Nope she was enjoying the attention from the staff.

Hopefully we’ve found the new spar or her.  One where she can relax, get a massage when she has a bath, have her pedicure and get her coat sorted.  And I can take her there without bribes or anything.

Time will tell I guess, but at any rate today was a win.  And for people who don’t get it, going to the groomers is a big deal to most dogs.  Finding one that isn’t too stressful is a wonderful thing.

Zen Indeed

Today’s lesson is to know your four-footed companion very well before attempting to do yoga or Pilates while your companion is freely roaming about your work area!  Okay so this may seem obvious to some of you, and perhaps a few of you have already learned this lesson.  But no one told me about this. There was no warning that came with the four-footed one.  Not a single word.

And normally, well normally she isn’t all that interested in what I am doing if she happens to have a toy or something to keep her occupied. The only time I’d say this doesn’t apply is when food is present.  Nothing trumps food when it comes to the four-footed one.  Heck that may apply to me at times too!

Anyway I was doing some yoga today, at home with the four-footed one roaming about freely.  She had her large pink elephant to play with and all was very zen like to begin with.  I followed poses, I breathed and I felt a bit lighter.  Until.  Until the moment of a downward dog.  This is the point where zen ceased to exist and chaos began.  You see the four-footed one decided that my sad attempt at and downward dog was really an invitation.  To jump on my back.  And then jump off. And jump up again.  And down again.  Basically I became the dog’s jungle gym.

Naturally I had to put an end to this, but when there is so much fun to be had, it can be hard to just stop.  That is until a firm voice and command is given.  At this point the fun ceases, the person responsible for the cessation of said fun becomes ignored and the four-footed one disappears for a bit.  And any moment of zen, peace, calm or even feeling a bit better is over.  Just like that.  Because the next thing I did was end up like a pretzel, only because I was trying to get the four-footed one to come out of her hiding place.  She gave in once she decided I was knotted up enough.

I’d go back to the yoga, but….

Stained Glass, Stained Soul

Beloved has a things for stained glass windows. He cannot make them as he lacks the artistic talent for that.  He cannot install them as his thumbs seem to rebel against labor of that sort.  But he can find an incredible amount of beauty in them, especially the way the sun illuminates them.  And he does pay homage to them when he can.

No matter where he travels to, he will seek out stained glass windows to capture on his phone and sit beneath, to let the colored light play against his skin while he contemplates his life.  To him, there is something special about being able to sit bathed in the unnaturally colored light and reflect upon his actions, thoughts, desires and dreams.  He can spend hours in silent contemplation, lost in a world I have no way of entering.   Mostly because I tend not to darken the door during these moments.

There is something sweet and precious about his ability to find meaning, purpose and something so much larger than we are yet connecting us all to the same one thing.  And I find myself sitting in awe of this, of a simple act that is not so simple nor as easy as he makes it seem.  And while he is refreshed from his moments or hours of contemplation I find myself breathless from trying to chase my thoughts into a meaningful pattern.  And in these moments of peaceful stillness and calm he seems blessed in a way I don’t know how to reach.  It is as if we are meant to be alone for that moment however long it stretches, he lost in contemplation while I am left waiting and holding on for the moment to pass in order to reach above to get back to him.